Believe in nothing, no matter who says it, even if I say it, if it does not agree with your own experience and your own common sense ~ Buddha

I am having a tiny little crisis of the faith here. If you have no time or interest to read this, by all means, carry on. I totally understand. This is my blog, and I’ll cry if I want to. But maybe you’ll read to the end, and you’ll be moved by what you read.

 

I am a healer. I am a teacher. I’m a truck driver, an ex-patch-worker, and a writer. I’m a recovering smarty-pants and a brain injury survivor.

I have always felt special.

I have always felt, I dunno, imbued with this special confidence that I had big, big things to teach the world.

I’m really, really good at what I do, which use BodyTalk to help people become one with the spark of divinity within themselves.

 

Today, my divinity is a little tarnished. I’m a little bit broken, a little bit scuffed.

I’m tired. I know what I need to do to take care of myself, but I’m not, for a variety of reasons. I’m anxious, I’m apprehensive and I’m wondering if the struggle is even worth it. So many people are our there doing great, transformational work. They don’t need me. I’m not even that special anyway.

This is a sad, droopy little post, and even while I was writing it, I didn’t want to post it. People don’t want your sad-sack stories — they want your energy, your spark, your insight and you value. If you can’t bring that to they table, then why not just call it a day?

I was going to. And then I thought, you know, everybody has days like this. I’m not alone in this. I’ve been on Twitter for 4 days, and I have seen more genuinely charitable, human, divine discourse in those four days than I ever imagined possible.  I’ve followed some truly amazing people. And I know they ALL have days like this one.

But maybe they feel a little alone. Maybe they don’t realize that there are other people who, in spite of knowing that they have incredible super-powers still feel a bit small and uncertain at times. And maybe it would be just the thing they needed to hear.

So I’m saying it.


Everyone is shouting “Authenticity!” at the tops of our voices. If we’re going to be authentic about our joys and our excitement and our triumphs and our felix clock collections, we owe it to ourselves to be j ust as honest about our moments of vulnerability. We owe it to ourselves. Not only to reach out and gain strength from our communities, but we need to model asking for help and support.

We need to model the strength that comes from that vulnerability, because the interdependence of its members is what builds community, and trust, and openness, and awareness. It creates seeing.

Sit quietly for a moment, and consider how many people you interact with on a regular basis pretty much consider you bulletproof? How many people do you actual expose your soft underbelly to? How many people have never  seen evidence that you do indeed, bleed, sweat, cry?

It might be that you like it that way. There’s a certain gratification in having people think you have it all together. Who knows? Maybe if enough people think it, you’ll start to believe it too.

Consider this, however. Even if you disregard the times that you might have benefited from the support of others instead of licking your wounds quietly in the dark, consider the people who look up to you.

They want to be you. They want your style, your spark, your verve. They want to be one of the people that has it all together too.

If you don’t show them that you can have doubts, that you can flinch, that you make mistakes and you try and you fail and you stumbled and fell and you broke your heart when you realized you’d never be as perfect as the person you looked up to — You’re giving that experience to them, as well.

Be strong. Be weak.

If not for yourself, for others.

(fwiw I feel a lot better now)

 

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Comments on: "I am Naked Here, People." (10)

  1. Had to post this quote…

    ““Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask …ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
    Used by Nelson Mandela in his 1994 inaugural speech
    CUJules
    Maryanne Williamson quotes

    Have a great night Shanna 🙂

    • This is my favorite quote in the whole world. I have it framed, sitting at a corner of my desk. I wish everybody would take it to heart– as we are liberated from our own fear, we free those around us.

      Thanks for reading Caroline

  2. Shanna,

    I was so moved reading this post of yours – connection, authenticity and solidarity all lit up for me. Thank you for finding the courage to post it.

    With love,
    Reba
    x

    • Reba, thanks for being one of the glorious people on the twitters who simultaneously made feel so expansive and so small.

      If this moves people to show themselves as wholly human and not the superheros we all wish ourselves to be, It was worth it to be naked on the internets. 🙂

      Maybe people can come be naked WITH me! We can have a big, naked, online club! Crrrrazy. I like it!

  3. What a touching post. Thank you for sharing your truth. It IS hard work to keep it together sometimes! We all have difficult moments, and I agree that it is important to talk about the tough stuff too. After all, we all have those moments when we feel like we’re going to fall apart and need support. There is a very clear difference between complaining and expressing authenticity. Thank you for giving me permission to show my vulnerability.

    • Complaining! Perish the thought. I’m not sure what the difference is between complaining and asking for support, but like art, I know it when I see it.

      Permission granted. I like to pretend I’m Lara Croft as much as the next girl, but when my stepkid asks me, “Do YOU ever make a mistake?” it’s time to swallow the elation that you’ve managed to fool a 10 year old (!) into thinking you have no screwups — and started modelling the fact that mistakes, weakness and vulnerability are nothing to be ashamed about.

  4. Oof.

    I needed this. Thank you.

  5. […] just journal here. I tell you all about it anyway. The answer to that, mon chers, is that, recent posting notwithstanding, I don’t want you to see how long it really takes me to figure this stuff out. […]

  6. […] wrote some time ago that I was scared nearly all the time in this space. (For the record, I don’t count this as a bad […]

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