Ultimately, a leap of faith is required at some point to test the waters. We have to take a risk and trust that we can handle what unfolds and navigate the outcomes of being vulnerability. Under most circumstances, we’re pleasantly surprised. Vulnerability and openness is disarming. Some people may be befuddled and uncomfortable and not know how to relate. Awkwardness might show its face. But most of the time, people open up in response to openness, they soften in response to softness, and they connect to invitation for connection…
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The Dance of Discomfort and Vulnerability
This one is tricky. Even when you’ve done the internal work, even when you intellectually know that no harm can come to you from opening up and sharing, there is a certain amount of discomfort associated with bearing your heart to another…
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There's a way to live life with intimacy, with direct contact with our experiences. Living in this way brings a richness to life. We also gain a deep knowing of the beauty of being. Intimacy penetrates the veils that come between us and reality and liberates us from much friction in our lives. But living with such openness can be difficult. We must feel everything more deeply, including our pain.
I haven't perfected this way of living, but I’m constantly striving. And I've caught many a glimpse into what's possible. It's an ongoing practice that requires presence and openness. And openness means vulnerability…
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Beginning the important conversation on Intimacy and Vulnerability.
The excitement of the spring isn’t just in our heads. It’s in our bodies and in our loins. The bright warm sun beaming down paired with the fecundity of wet earth, give rise to flowers galore. Flowers, in case you’d forgotten, are the beautiful sex organs of the plant world.
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We all know what it’s like to feel stuck. We can’t figure out how to connect more deeply with our partner or what our next career step should be. When we feel stuck there’s a pervasive underlying dissatisfaction along with the frustration from not seeing a solution.
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The cool sleek hardwood floor brace my feet as I stand amongst a mixture of friends, acquaintances, and strangers while a flood of tears stream down my face. My chest heaving, my crying audible, and I’m navigating a flood of thoughts while trying to stay present with the emotions flowing through me. I’m at the Avalon ballroom at the end of Movement Mass, and Rising Appalachia is singing “Bright Morning Stars” through the sound system.
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I’m moving quickly down the wet trail. My heart is beating fast, my body pumping the cool air in and out my lungs, my feet shuffling to avoid rocks and roots. I occasionally turn my head back to check on Maple, our sweet dog. She used to run ahead of me, but now, as she ages, lingers behind. I’m wearing a thin long sleeve shirt and shorts. Spring has arrived!
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I saw this in my Grandfather’s apartment this past weekend and it caught my eye. At first, because of its nostalgic elegance, but then because of the word “comfort” - here defined as a narrow range at the intersection of temperature and humidity. Comfort is important, heck my name Noah, can be translated as comfort or comfortable. But there are two essential truths about comfort that can change our lives…
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Etched into my mind with painful clarity is the window of my college dorm room, seven stories high, with a stark view of the street below. That street could have been my escape. Isolation and claustrophobia had pulled me into a conversation with death during a rough depressive episode and I wanted to escape the pain so desperately that I considered everything, including ending my life…..
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