How do you convince someone of a difficult truth that he or she doesn't want to hear? The key lies in connection. I'm not particularly good at connecting with other people, however I grudgingly recognize the ever-growing importance of writing, speaking, responding, and persuading other individuals, groups of individuals, communities, nations, and even the world as a whole. The ability to bridge the gap between yourself and another individual, or between two individuals outside yourself, is one of the most important skills in today's ever and inter connected world. Despite the truly global World Wide Web and the pervasive social media networks ever present in our society, true connection is just as difficult as ever. What an oxymoron.
A huge component of connection is authenticity. I'm currently in the process of composing an essay that I think is unbearably boring. The prompt is uninspiring, and quite frankly I don't think the professor has any interest in reading forty of these papers. In this instance, the lack of authenticity is twofold: the prompt in this assignment is, from my admittedly flawed perspective, inauthentic, and that is the cause of my professor's failure to connect to his student (me). Additionally, I am having unending troubles in my attempt to make that piece something that has at least a semblance of importance to anything at all.
I have put nothing of myself in this assignment. Those are my words, certainly, but I have failed to connect with anyone in this essay because whatever those words say, my apathy ensures that they are not from me. I hope I never have to do that again. The outcome of whatever I do is always better if I've done it as though it mattered.
Authenticity is absolutely essential, but when it comes to connection, I've learned that very few qualities bridge a chasm better than vulnerability.
And guess what.
I hate being vulnerable.
Even the lesser cousin of vulnerability--debt--is incredibly uncomfortable. I hate feeling as though I am at the mercy of another individual who may or may not choose to extend forgiveness, compassion, clemency. If ever I can help it, I never choose to make myself vulnerable.
I have put nothing of myself in this assignment. Those are my words, certainly, but I have failed to connect with anyone in this essay because whatever those words say, my apathy ensures that they are not from me. I hope I never have to do that again. The outcome of whatever I do is always better if I've done it as though it mattered.
Authenticity is absolutely essential, but when it comes to connection, I've learned that very few qualities bridge a chasm better than vulnerability.
And guess what.
I hate being vulnerable.
Even the lesser cousin of vulnerability--debt--is incredibly uncomfortable. I hate feeling as though I am at the mercy of another individual who may or may not choose to extend forgiveness, compassion, clemency. If ever I can help it, I never choose to make myself vulnerable.
Or at least, I never used to. Delivering yourself into the mercy of someone else doesn't have to be as dramatic as it sounds. It is simply an apology for something that possibly could have been ignored, sacrificing your own dignity for the sake of another person's comfort, saying "I love you" first. Why is this all so hard? That last one especially. Have you ever noticed that? Maybe it really is just a personal struggle in this instance, but I had to teach myself to say that to people before it was said it to me. Why is it? Because it demanded a level of uncomfortable exposure, and as animals--sentient animals, but animals nonetheless--we don't like that!
Is it possible, that a position of vulnerability, with weaknesses exposed, is one of the most powerful of the human conditions? It seems like a counterintuitive and oxymoronic suggestion. But it is true in the sense that exposing one's weakness, or putting oneself in a state of vulnerability, creates unprecedented empathetic connections and opens up channels with other people that were previously closed.
Vulnerability just requires a risky action to benefit another person--or multiple people--with no guarantee of any reciprocity whatsoever. Unconditional love... now what does that sound like?
As usual, Christ is the greatest example. "For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person, one would dare even to die--but God shows his love for us in that, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:7-8). We were still sinners; we were not righteous. There was no reason at all for Christ to die. Yet he allowed himself to be vulnerable, put himself into the hands of unrighteous people whom he knew would beat him and kill him, and he said "I love you" first.
Mankind is saved by the power of Christ's vulnerability. And because of it, we have the opportunity to love him too. For that fact, I have only a single word: wow.
Best wishes,
Nicole
Is it possible, that a position of vulnerability, with weaknesses exposed, is one of the most powerful of the human conditions? It seems like a counterintuitive and oxymoronic suggestion. But it is true in the sense that exposing one's weakness, or putting oneself in a state of vulnerability, creates unprecedented empathetic connections and opens up channels with other people that were previously closed.
Vulnerability just requires a risky action to benefit another person--or multiple people--with no guarantee of any reciprocity whatsoever. Unconditional love... now what does that sound like?
As usual, Christ is the greatest example. "For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person, one would dare even to die--but God shows his love for us in that, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:7-8). We were still sinners; we were not righteous. There was no reason at all for Christ to die. Yet he allowed himself to be vulnerable, put himself into the hands of unrighteous people whom he knew would beat him and kill him, and he said "I love you" first.
Mankind is saved by the power of Christ's vulnerability. And because of it, we have the opportunity to love him too. For that fact, I have only a single word: wow.
Best wishes,
Nicole
