The other day, The boys and I stepped out on to the deck to leave the house for a bit. They were fully clothed (miraculous, I know), I had my keys, wallet AND phone, we were ready. I am out the door first and I see, sitting just to the rear drivers side of the car, a bunny. Yep, there was Bugs just nibbling on the clover. So I paused and let both kids pass me on the stairs. I watched as the rabbit turned into granite as the kids hit the bottom step.
So I whispered, “Hey, guys, come back up here I want to show you something.”
And in that moment, as both boys stomped their way back up the steps, I knew that there were only a couple of realistic outcomes, I mean I have a six and four year old, you could list the viable options for me. But they reached the top step, saw the rabbit and the two opposing, possible outcomes occurred together as time slowed down.
Vulnerability is a scary, opening, brave opportunity we give ourselves. We invite a person into this space we have prepared both physically and mentally where we are giving them insight into what is important to us. That is a powerful gift, one that we give to ourselves and to others.
My six year old went quiet and watched. The 4 year old shouted, “I will chase it away!” Aaaand he took off down the stairs. These are common reactions when we invite people into our safe spaces. Some will sit, grateful with wonder. Others will run and chase the wonder away, unable to sit in the moment.
Being vulnerable, in this moment, didn’t cost me much, honestly I was expecting both boys to chase the rabbit away. If anything, the rabbit was really the vulnerable one that shared the moment with us. Sometimes vulnerability is inviting a child to come see a rabbit, hoping that they embrace the quiet beauty of the moment with you. Other times, it is daring to nibble on clover while maintaining eye contact with a creature much larger than ourselves.
And there are large, intimidating creatures out there that are continually staring us down. But can we feed ourselves if we don’t acknowledge we are hungry?? We are starving to be known and there is no security in baring parts of ourselves, even to people we trust—in fact that can be even scarier, but on the flip side, there isn’t any true security in our silence either. If we are not willing to be so beautifully brave, we will simply fade more and more from lack of simple, open connection. I want more for me than that. I want more for you.
This all sounds fluffy. But it really is hard to feed ourselves the connection of openness when we are sore, battered, bruised, traumatized by a society of make believe perfection and hard core judgement. Vulnerability is freaking hard and scary. Talking about miscarriage. Or spousal abuse— physical OR emotional, being fired from work, topics of shame or fear. These are hard things, but I think vulnerability just might be the food that helps us realize we are not alone.