Nothing Blooms in a Vacuum
My arm and my partner’s leg in the frame as I burn a piece of paper during a group summer solstice ritual. If you want to do some summer rituals of your own, check out my Patreon.
Learning to be vulnerable happens in stages. I can think I’m being vulnerable, even say to myself “this is a vulnerable share” as I speak with a loved one, only to realize later that my mind did something incredible: it kept me from even seeing the vulnerable truth, so that I couldn’t possibly put myself at risk by speaking it aloud.
Choosing risk is how we lead fulfilling lives, even if parts of us try consistently to avoid it. And risk can look a thousand different ways. Here are a few:
Leaving your house when you work at home and get used to never leaving your house (this one’s me)
Bungee jumping
Confronting your parents about how they talk to you (this one’s all of us)
Not asking to check that your partner has set the alarm clock, and just trusting that they have (this one’s also me - I have OCD)
Showing your true thoughts openly without any guarantee that the person you’re sharing with will like or understand what you’re saying
We might be aware that we’re taking a risk, or we might not. For a long time my mind broke things into two categories: “this feels right” and “this feels wrong.” “Right” was always whatever soothed my anxiety. “Wrong” was whatever felt scary. For example, asking about the alarm clock? Right thing to do. Asking a second time, also the Right thing to do, if it would make me feel less anxious.
I’m still working this belief system out of my makeup. It’s especially challenging because if I take the risk and don’t soothe my anxiety, there’s a follow up message: “You’re being irresponsible.”
And that idea, for most of my life, has been intolerable. I might be controlling, I might be overprepared and a nerd, but at least I’m responsible. And that means I can respect myself.
So what happens when I start to see the nuance to “this is right” and “this is wrong,” and understand that these aren’t universal truths but actually fake realities I’ve created to make the world a more comfortable place?
Shit gets complicated. Creating a fake reality and living inside of it makes it a lot harder to relate to people - they can see the things I’m doing to soothe myself, even when I can’t. To relate to others deeply and consistently, you have to find a shared reality.
When my anxiety causes me to judge other people or to only reveal parts of myself, I feel lonely. It’s lonely to long to be seen, and yet be unable to figure out how to reveal your innermost self.
This is why I say learning to be vulnerable happens in stages. The more we practice seeing ourselves and what we’re doing, the more information we have about whether we’re being authentic or not. And then we can act on it.
Working on myself has led me to a different definition of Right and Wrong. I can tell something is off when I’m comfortable . . . but also uneasy. The unease comes from my inability to respect myself.
Ease comes in when I allow my shares to be messy and incomplete, when I feel my way forward in conversations and facial expressions and writing. I can tell when I smile a bit too wide because I want other people to like me. It feels off, like I’m not being real with myself. I relax my face, and understand that I’m showing a truer version of myself to the world. Ease.
Sometimes it takes a while for me to figure out what’s off. When that happens, I try to get as close as I can to what’s causing the “off” feeling. I listen to my own body and mind. I notice it’s when I always use a certain counter-move in an argument, or when I always respond the same way to a friend’s jokes regardless of the joke or day.
We don’t have to know exactly what we’re doing that we want to change, or even be sure we want to change it. We just have to start seeing ourselves without buffer. I do this work with clients in Tarot readings and coaching, and without fail it leads to greater self-trust and autonomy. It’s hard work, but you don’t have to do it alone. To be honest, I don’t think we can. I have therapy and coaching and loved ones to support me. No flower blossoms in a vacuum.
We’re not reaching for perfection or true enlightenment. We’re just reaching for self respect and real connection with the people we love. If you’re interested in working with me to bring these things into your life, you can find out more about my work and how to contact me below.
Cordelia lounging in the summer heat. Isn’t she beautiful? I’m learning Portrait Mode on my phone.
Village Witch’s Corner
My intention this week :
Stay true to myself. Fuck it up. Try it again.
Question(s) I'm asking this week:
What is Good Enough?
What I’m reading:
Carrie, by Stephen King. It’s been a helpful reminder that effective horror can be simple (and often is): Carrie has me thinking about power dynamics, justice, and magic, all from one fucked up high school dynamic.
Tiny Spell of the Week:
Tidy my office. Take things off the walls, rearrange my bulletin board. Get fresh energy flowing.
