Hum, good question…
Okay. Can you live with that?
Being vulnerable, at least opening to the possibility, feels better than being guarded and withdrawn. Vulnerability implies…
Well, first thing that comes to mind: weak. Though when I feel into it my sense is the exact opposite is true. Especially with a history of abuse. Trusting in life, in the goodness of people, the shared heart of humanity, all of that takes strength, a strong character. A willingness to both see AND be seen. There’s a definition of vulnerability that sits well with me.
Yet it bounces around inside, having a bit of trouble finding a safe space to land. As though a tender, young bird is testing her wings within my torso, fluttering this way and that.
It’s okay, she says.
Let me flutter here within the safety of your heart. Allow me to test my wings, to practice taking flight—a few loops around the rib cage. I, we, need these test runs.
Vulnerability is an art. And while it may be in-born, it is also a craft honed with time. Allow us this time of stretching and strengthening; of remembering.
You are coming home. Close your eyes and feel the stillness. Know who you are.