intimacy

Carry on,
xox

This past Wednesday night, at the women’s group that I so dearly love, the topic was intimacy, and the fact that, as Brene Brown has found in her over twenty years of research:

Vulnerability is essential for intimacy.

According to BB there can be no emotional, spiritual, or physical intimacy without vulnerability. 

Well…then…… shit.

Vulnerability is haaaaaard (said in a teenage whiney voice)

It leaves you open to emotional annihilation.

We’ve all been there. You’re completely and totally won over by someone who seems to meet you at the steps of intimacy. They hold your heart with their slippery hands and you give that unreliable soul the keys to the kingdom, or as Elizabeth Gilbert wrote Friday on Facebook, the keys to a small hidden lockbox.

She writes:
My girlfriends and I were talking about how all of us have a small lockbox hidden deep inside our souls, in which we keep the most fragile, frightened, innocent parts of ourselves.

If somebody loves you (and loves you WELL) they will come to learn what’s inside that secret lockbox of vulnerability, and they will be so careful to never use that information against you — to never manipulate your vulnerabilities, or mock them, or use the knowledge of your frailty as a weapon of power or diminishment.

My friends and I were talking about times in the past when we have opened ourselves up in love (or even friendship) to the wrong sorts of people — to people who found our most secret vulnerabilities and — instead of saying, “Oh, dear one, now that I know this about you, I will always protect you so carefully” — they said, “Aha! Now that I know this, I can really start messing with you!”

Then the betrayal happens, which along with the breach of trust and connection, is one of the major blocks to vulnerability. 

I don’t think it’s any coincidence that we talked about it this week and she posted her amazing post about it today.

In living rooms, yoga classes and cafe’s all over the world right now, women especially, are craving intimacy and learning the role that vulnerability plays.

Society and certain jobs (military, law enforcement, hospitals) discourage it.

But we women are getting courageous. And we realize that we are desperately in need of more human connection.

We are ALL in this together, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
Here’s another great piece of wisdom from Brene Brown:

When we loose our tolerance for vulnerability, we loose our tolerance for joy.

Because; we loose our courage to be joyful.
It is such a daring act, because it is so fleeting.
It is over in a minute or it can be taken away just as fast.

Think about that. We will sacrifice joy, in order to keep safe, the secrets in our lockboxes.

Bottom line…..life is fuckin’ risky.

It’s ALL a risk. Love, intimacy, vulnerability, connection, joy.

The whole shebang.

But it’s a risk I think we all should be willing to take.

Be kind to yourselves this lovely weekend.
Xox

Intimacy
I invite you to read the word “intimacy” as “into-me-see.” We create intimacy with others when we allow ourselves to be seen.
~Christine Hassler~

Who sees you clearer than your friends?
Not the acquaintance at the office, or the barista who makes your coffee every morning.
No.
Your REAL friends. The ones that you can’t even remember not knowing.
The ones that GET you. I mean get you, in the deepest, most soul stirring, tear jerking way.
They know every hair style you’ve ever had, and they told you you rocked it.
But, they wouldn’t let you leave the house in those God awful green pants.
They are brave enough to tell you he’s not good enough for you, and almost more thrilled than you are, when you find someone who is.
You’ve had dinners where you’ve talked until the candles burned down, and New Years Eve’s that were hilarious disasters and days on vacation that were magical. Those experiences are etched with a permanent groove in your brain and make you weepy when you replay them.

Intimacy is the capacity to be rather weird with someone – and finding that that’s ok with them.
~anonymous~

They are on your speed dial (now speed text) for those three in the morning, pillow punching, holy shit, “will you just talk to me until I fall asleep” nights.
You’ve shared clothes, bathing suits, a toothbrush in a pinch, recipes, even candid details of the fight you had with your mom on her birthday, or the bad sex you had with that someone who you thought was “the one.”
You hold hands at funerals, weddings, baby showers and the Sunday farmers market.
When they lost the baby, you were there, to hold their hand. When they had the baby, you were in the room, to hold their legs.
When you’re an ass, they feed you, because they know how you get when you’re hungry.
When they hurt, you hurt.
When you laugh, they laugh louder, and longer, which makes wine come out your nose.

In-to-me-see is earned.
It is doled out judiciously. We are not transparent to the casual observer. Not to the blabber mouth or the revealer of secrets.
This kind of friendship, this kind of bond feels ancient and epic, almost older than time.
We carry it wherever we go, even into death.

Cherish these people. Hold them close to your heart, no matter how far away they may be. They’ll feel it. Then consider yourselves lucky to be accepted and loved that way.

Xox