Getting to the Heart of the Matter
I didn't believe in vulnerability until I had kids. I grew up believing that showing any emotion or softness was weak. Where I got this absurd notion I'm not sure, but I invested a lot of time and energy into keep the code: Never show fear, confusion, surprise, incompetence, or weakness. It certainly earned me a stoic reputation, as well as a capable but aloof one.
My first pregnancy, with its emotional outbursts and necessary dependence on help, did a great job of cracking my veneer of invulnerability. Caring for a newborn and taking on parenthood finished the job, and I became a huge believer in the value of vulnerability. We all know the "better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all" saying, and we might as well replace the word loved with "been vulnerable." Without vulnerability (read: showing our unprotected hearts and thoughts), we're the most lonely, isolated, and unconnected of beings.
Being open about our fears, needs, weaknesses, and feelings opens us up for greater joy AND greater pain. Just look at a baby, with every emotion and feeling bursting out without warning, and their incredible helplessness. How easy are they to connect to and love?! Kids make their parents vulnerable, and sometimes it's a surprise. A piece of us takes up residence in another being, and our heartstrings become stretched, visible, and vulnerable. That word visible is key. What good is leaving your heart and thoughts open if no one sees them? Sharing your vulnerability is the only way to deepen relationships.This is true even with our own kids as they mature. Tempering the all-knowing-all-fixing-parent image with doses of reality goes a long way towards teaching them good relationship skills.
As adults, the value of removing masks applies across the board, not just in personal relationships but in business also. Transparency breeds confidence, opportunity, and trust. I don't advocate broadcasting everything to everyone by any means, but the more open you are, the greater the potential for good. There's something to be said for doing business on the golf course, or in the playgroup, because it allows us to connect in a more human and genuine way. The joy of finding someone who shares your fears or foibles, or loves and respects you despite them, is invaluable. It's worth being vulnerable, and getting hurt sometimes, to build those heart-strings. When they're plucked, may the music be heard.