Last night I deleted a post because it felt too vulnerable. An hour later, a friend sent me an email with this Ted Talk. Perfect timing, and a great listen.
“{T}he people who have a strong sense of love and belonging believe they’re worthy of love and belonging. That’s it. They believe they’re worthy… What they had in common was a sense of courage. And I want to separate courage and bravery for you for a minute. Courage, the original definition of courage, when it first came into the English language — it’s from the Latin word cor, meaning heart — and the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. And so these folks had, very simply, the courage to be imperfect. They had the compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others, because, as it turns out, we can’t practice compassion with other people if we can’t treat ourselves kindly… The other thing that they had in common was this: They fully embraced vulnerability. They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful.” – Brené Brown
If you are a regular reader, you may notice the last two posts disappeared. This was intentional. Something about those last posts did not sit well with me, too exposed for the good of my current commitments. Rest assured, I may someday be more candid, but for now my first loyalty is to my students. It is far too easy when feeling overwhelmed or emotional to lay pieces of myself out for all to see– but when I cannot fully express myself because they are not pieces that should yet be shared, I have to remind myself to wait. Better to be in a place where I can type openly, than one where I have to censor myself while dancing on a very delicate line that affects real people that I care about.
Those last couple posts, I danced rather unsuccessfully. The writer in me wanted to expose myself, to create words that are true and meaningful, while the teacher knew my obligation was first to my students. The result was writing that was neither entirely truthful to my feelings nor as lovingly supportive of my role as a teacher as I would like. So, for now, limited words on any related frustrations, and an effort for more openness in areas that don’t connect to these loyalties.
If you write, do you find yourself balancing your obligations to different worlds with your desire to write openly? Which side wins for you? At what cost?
In the same vein as my last post, I’d like to share a link a friend emailed me a few weeks back. It shares four life lessons that I found to be incredibly well-timed reminders in my own life. I’ll let the author explain these ideas for herself, but I’m trying to get creative in how to share these ideas with my students and also help myself remember them too.
Here’s to seeking out places to belong instead of trying to fit in with everyone else, remembering to find the important lessons in our inevitable imperfections, and embracing vulnerability as an opportunity for courage!
Putting myself out there on my blog sometimes makes me feel like I’m overexposed. I told you, I’m an introvert at heart.
Does anyone else ever feel this way?
I started blogging because I wanted space to write and hold myself accountable for writing, but it has grown into much more. It is now a space that I think through my life, my writing, my challenges as a teacher. It is a place where I make new connections with like-minded people and strengthen old connections with those I wish I saw more. It is a way to put myself out there and build a platform in anticipation of publishing my work.
In other words, blogging is increasingly significant to my life. But, as a result, I also feel increasingly self-aware. When I share my posts on Facebook, I question myself, wondering whether I’m driving people in my life crazy– “We get it, you have a blog!” I imagine people thinking. Yet most of my clicks come from sharing my posts on my other social platforms. Likewise, I’ve been convinced that creating a following is necessary to success as an author.
I know that there will always be voices of self-doubt. In general, I try not to listen. I just also wonder if other people feel the same way. Do you ever feel silly about blogging? Self-absorbed? Self-important? I’m not saying that blogging is any of these things, it just feels this way for me sometimes, maybe because I have a slightly obsessive personality.
Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Marianne Williamson, “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 most frightens us… It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as 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.”
Even if I full-heartedly agree, it is a hard lesson. It’s hard to put ourselves out there and not be afraid of our own greatness. I hate to admit that sometimes I don’t feel that brave. I really liked this commencement speech that I watched last night. It reminded me that when all else fails, pretend to know what you’re doing…
oliviaobryon 