Joy 5

[Vulnerability & Power - XXVI] 

Joy rarely happens in isolation. For all the resources online informing us of the “three things you can do to be filled with joy,” often this truth is ignored: Joy requires others. 

Two weight bearing walls of the structure of joy are grace and generosity. 

Grace by definition is easy to understand: Receiving that which we don’t deserve. But here’s why it’s hard in practice. It requires a risk-filled relationship. On one side is benevolence and on the other is an awareness of need, an acknowledgement of weakness, a posture of humility. The recipient must be vulnerable.

Grace without pure generosity, however, threatens to be transactional, quid pro quo in nature. Pure generosity is far more challenging than it sounds. It has no expectations. No requirements. No strings attached. When the gift leaves the giver’s hands, as it were, the result is open-ended and mysterious. The giver must be vulnerable. 

Joy requires grace and generosity.Both require vulnerability. Both require community.

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Joy 4

[Vulnerability & Power - XXV]

Joy is not the emotion we desire to get *around* suffering. Joy is the experience we have when we’ve practiced gratitude *through* the suffering. 

To be clear: joy does not ignore suffering, abuse, or trauma. Instead, true joy is the fruit of gratitude in the midst of it. 

Pain should not be romanticized. Suffering should never be given a free ride. We ought to never have gratitude for either; and yet through them, in the darkest of dungeons, even a crumb of bread can make us salivate. Even the tiniest ray of sun can make us smile. Even a sip of water can remind us of freedom.  

The first act of joy, which is true resistance to ultimate suffering, is often actively seeking slivers of beauty, morsels of nourishment, and specks of hope.

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Joy 3

[Vulnerability & Power - XXIV]

Joy originates in the body, not the mind. (Though we Westerners like to think everything of importance begins in our cognitive capacities.) 

Bodily experiences are the result of place, action, and posture as opposed to thinking the right thoughts and insisting on a certain experience. Warmth comes from being in the sun rather than the shade or being under cover rather than exposed to the rain. The body get’s goosebumps if it’s underdressed and in the rain, regardless if we are imagining a fire. 

There are a lot of books that prescribe certain mental habits to experience gratitude and joy. Many of them are good. But I can only think of one that addresses gratitude and joy as a communal experience. 

Community assumes togetherness, mutuality, and diversity. Community is unpredictable and vulnerable.

If joy originates in the mind, then it’s safely protected from others, not contingent on community. But if it originates in the body, then it’s at the very least partially subject to the conditions around us, including those we interact with. 

Often the most important questions to ask about joy are "bodily": 

Is my community practicing gratitude and investing in joy? Does my community lean into the vulnerability of bodies and give thanks for diversity? Are the people around me tending to their bodies and the bodies of others? 

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Joy 2

[Vulnerability & Power - XXIII] 

I don’t like the trite advice, “Choose joy,” as if joy is a retail option at a grocery store. Joy is not a commodity or a consumable product or a “state of mind.”  

We choose our emotions about as much as we choose our body temperature. Changing it, if at all possible, is temporary and superficial.

If we choose anything related to joy, we choose to bear open our inclination to be safe, protected, and sealed off from harm. “Choosing joy” is hard work: we must reckon with our expectations for disaster, pain, or tragedy. Joy is not the antithesis of our tendency to forebode joy, but it is the willingness to explicitly name it. 

By calling out our tendency to pay a premium for a lower deductible on our car insurance because “I guarantee I’ll get in an accident this year,” we free ourself to be thankful for the many commutes we’ve made safely. 

Expecting disaster protects us from being surprised, but it also inhibits us from the vulnerable posture of thankfulness and ultimately joy. 

We don’t "choose joy” but we must choose to be honest about our fear of vulnerability, our aversion to surprise, and the fortress we build around us when we expect the worst. All of this repels joy.

Joy 1

[Vulnerability & Power - XXII] 

I’m interested in joy because it is the consequence of engaging the challenges of life in a particularly vulnerable way. I’m also interested in joy because it is so powerful. 

Joy is both vulnerable and powerful: it’s one of life's great paradoxes. 

Joy doesn’t emerge from another more basic emotion called thankfulness, but it comes from the *practice* of it. Joy is a fruit of labor—the embodied practice of intentional gratitude. And it is vulnerable because to give thanks is to intentionally (and sincerely!) name goodness, blessing, and beauty. 

In other words, expecting disaster and highlighting imperfection protects us from disappointment, but it also is an impediment to joy. It’s safe yet disempowering. Alternatively, we can choose to incorporate certain practices that attune our eyes to the wonderful, the lovely, and the gifts in this life. 

This way is vulnerable. 
And powerful.

Still Feel Fear

[Vulnerability & Power - XXI] 

False: courage is the denial of fear.
True: courage is acknowledging and facing fear. 

False: vulnerability is a sign of (and looks like) weakness.
True: vulnerability feels like weakness inside but looks like strength from the outside. 

False: the foundation of courage is power.
True: the foundation of courage is vulnerability. 

False: fear makes us vulnerable. 
True: fear is an emotional response to threat, which is part of the state of being vulnerable. 

Takeaway: to be vulnerable is to be courageous and strong (and yet still feel fear).

Leading to In-Person Contact

[Vulnerability & Power - XX]

Social media maximizes our power and minimizes out vulnerability.

It’s not only mind numbing (ie hypnotic scrolling) and anxiety inducing (ie too much news too quickly), it’s a “space” swelling with the appetite of a school of piranhas—hungry for flesh. There’s a good reason for this: the vulnerability that comes with real connection is missing and the base cravings we have for power can finally be met. We can literally destroy someone’s life and remain anonymous.

As a tool for connection they are useful.

But if social media doesn’t lead to in-person contact, it’s ultimately distancing and unhealthy.

[Also, with disciplined intentionality, a close watch on habits, and clear sense of purpose, social media can also be used for good without leading to in-person contact. But it’s rare.]

Examining Bunkers

[Vulnerability & Power - XIX] 

Retreating and hiding is safe. It’s an admission of vulnerability, and at times is necessary. Coming out of hiding and intentionally making relational connections is unsafe. People hurt us. Sometimes intentionally, often unintentionally, but the wounds hurt the same.

Hiding is different than fortifying. Fortifying projects strength (eg 24 inch concrete walls in our bunker, literally or figuratively). It’s hiding without the admission of vulnerability. It’s false strength and therefor a lie. To reinforce the lie, we can surround ourself with a narrative that reaffirm it, gather data to corroborate it, and even create research studies that find the lie to be true beyond doubt. 

Community is dangerous, but it’s our only hope at exposing the projections and the cloud of lies. 

Leaning into community is truly courageous, not only because we must face vulnerability but because we subject our “bunkers” to the examination of others.

Wanting to be Safe

[Vulnerability & Power - XVIII] 

I can't blame people for wanting to be safe. It’s innate. 

Historically, safety was an issue of life or death. 

Safety from the elements meant not dying from exposure to the cold in winter and the heat in summer. Safety from a lack of basic nutrition meant not dying of starvation. Safety in numbers meant not dying at the violent hands of another tribe, village, nation, etc., or not dying by violent attack of a carnivorous predator. 

For many of us, these don’t apply. And yet we still give into the innate impulse. Safety from the elements, threats on our lives, and violence attack have been transferred to threats on our presuppositions, beliefs, and everyday comforts. 

Instead of shelter, we need ideological bunkers. 

Instead of basic nutrition, we need a steady diet of self-affirming soundbites, memes, and thin journalism. 

Instead of a diverse tribe, we need a homogenous village of online voices that reaffirm our biases and protect us from outsiders. 

I can’t blame people for wanting to be safe, but what many deem safety is really ideological and intellectual isolation. Instead of finding security, we’re finding heavily fortified loneliness. And we feel more insecure than ever.

Dark Power 3

[Vulnerability & Power - XVII] 

The *Star Wars* saga works because we the consumers agree on the fundamental use of light/dark symbolism. There are two opposing manifestation of the power called the Force. They are, simply put, at war with each other. The light side is good and represents peace. The dark side is bad and represents aggression and greed. Deeply ingrained in the modern psyche are the archetype forces of good and evil that are at odds and must battle for the galaxy.  

No one questions the light. The light is always bright. It’s always objectively good. It’s always…us. 

The whole balance of the power spectrum, the opposing forces, and the galactic saga would crumble the moment someone asks: Are not both the light and dark, good and evil, moral and immoral sides operating on a power structure that is fundamentally broken? Or: Is not all this power dark power, evil power, unhealthy power, and inevitably corrupting power? 

Until we name the power we believe is inevitable as dark and innately problematic we will continue to crave it. 

The kind of power that promotes others, gives power away, shares power with the powerless, and empowers empathetically is the only kind of power that will begin to change the world (and the galaxy!).

Dark Power 2

[Vulnerability & Power - XVI] 

We watch most public discourse with the same astonishment we watch a car wreck. There’s carnage everywhere and we can’t not watch. But we shouldn't be astonished, as we’ve finally arrived at the “product" of our own creation. Power has been defined as the top position of dominance for generations. And here we are: everything is a joust for power. 

"Dark power" is the power we believe in and lust after. It’s power-over. 

What I need, even if it is in absurd excess, is acquired at your expense. Expense of your material needs. Of your character. Of your wellbeing. I will deny your needs (which is really your access to life, your very humanity) en route to meeting mine.  

Until we begin risking vulnerability in public life (and in the cultural imagination in general) we will continue to operate on the assumption that my position of power demands your position of weakness. Any other consideration is a threat to my (real or perceived) dominance. 

And we will continue to watch car wreck after car wreck until we’re all battered and in the ER.

Dark Power

[Vulnerability & Power - XV] 

Social or political power is easy to define: it’s the ability to direct or influence someone, a group, or the course of events. The primary reward of (this kind of) power is control. Power by definition is power-over. Power names the imbalance of influence, whereby one party or person is dominant and the other subordinate. 

The tactics of power vary, some direct action and others indirect. Economic interference or war come to mind for the former; threats or intimidation come to mind for the latter. 

But what if (true) power is not measured by a scale that tilts one way or the other, but instead is measured by the balance of the scale? This might be called mutual-power or power-sharing. Or even further, what if power was measured by the ability to divest influence, give away control, and empower others—a type of power-under? 

This is not a far-fetched idea at all. Any loving relationship, though we might not use the word “power”, works precisely because an alternative understanding of power is employed. The success of a marriage is not measured by dominance but by loving care of the other over years of power divestment and the balancing of the scale of influence. 

The lie is that this kind of power-under can’t work anywhere else; it’s too vulnerable for public use. 

Perhaps the problem is not that shared power must remain private, but instead that we’ve created a public life devoid of vulnerability. Without risking vulnerability in public life, social spaces, political discourse and decision making, and in the cultural imagination in general, we will continue to operate on the assumption that my position of power demands your position of weakness. Any other consideration is a threat to my (real or perceived) dominance. 

This is not real (ie good, healthy, sustainable) power. This is false (ie dark, unholy) power. It’s time to name it what it actually is.

Spilt Milk

[Vulnerability & Power - XIV] 

If I spill the milk, I’ve just made a mess. That mess means several things: 1) I’ve disrupted an otherwise peaceful meal, 2) possibly broken the vessel (eg the glass, bottle, or cup), 3) created more work for others, and 4) transgressed an accepted meal norm (liquid should stay in the glass or mouth during a meal).  

Guilt says: “I’ve made a mess, broken a norm, and disrupted the peace, which are bad.” Shame says: “I’m bad, as I have made a mess and caused a disruption.” 

Guilt can be expiated through apology. “I’m sorry” often does the trick. Shame cannot. Shame drills deep into the identity of a person, and self-ostracizing begins. 

The difference between the two often lies in the hands of the people sitting around the table. This is true at a family dinner table, at a church, in a community, or on a larger scale. 

The power of belonging is undone by the power of shaming.

Immunological Power

[Vulnerability & Power - XIII] 

There is nowhere to turn to avoid hearing about the COVID pandemic. While I know a lot of people that have contracted COVID, I also know many that haven’t. 

Perhaps a more deadly “virus” is the epidemic of loneliness. I’m not sure that I’ve met someone that has not experienced loneliness. (This is not just another “what-about-ism” to disregard COVID, I promise.)

The reason they are related is because of the tie between social disconnection and immune-disfunction or immunological weakness. Our ability to resist viral infection and recover from illness is significantly weakened when we feel lonely. We are quite literally (immunologically) stronger together. 

In a season of viral hysteria (much of which is warranted), social connection, belonging, community, and participation in meaningful work together is more valuable than ever. 

Lacking it could very well kill us.

On Art & Healing

[Vulnerability & Power - XII] 

Art is vulnerable. Especially sharing it publicly.  

All other means of communication can serve as a mote of protection around our fortified inner lives. Art is only hung in the hallways and rooms at the center of our castle. 

Perhaps this is why it can render pain beautiful, loneliness a shared experience, and despair hopeful. 

Consider songwriting. It’s never only about one breakup or death or loss; it’s about all our breakups and losses. The artist lets us all into their pain that we might discover the words that render our darkness a little lighter and our pain more bearable. 

Art is vulnerable, and in it is the power to connect—the first step toward healing.

Trust & Community

[Vulnerability & Power - XI] 

I’ve always appreciated Brene Browns assertion that the most important tool for “braving the wilderness”—which means having courage to be true to oneself when it would be easier to give into the pressure of simply going along with the group—is TRUST. 

Trust is having the faith that something valuable to me can be vulnerable to you. This thing, information, conviction, detail, or truth about me is a massive risk to air out in your presence. If I can’t trust it in your presence then we literally cannot truly commune (the root word for community) together. 

The opposite of trust, of course, is distrust. What’s important to me is not safe in this group. 

I’m am yet to see a community of authentic belonging—a group of friends, a family, a church, a recovery group, or whatever—exist with a spirit of distrust. It just can’t happen. 

There’s an interesting catch: distrust can look like trust at first because it forces compliance and conforming. Don’t be fooled.

Latent Childhood Craving

[Vulnerability & Power - X] 

I grew up seeking approval at home. (Who didn’t?)
Did I win the award? 
Did I play well at the soccer game?
Are my grades high enough? 

I also wanted to fit into the popular crowd. (Who didn’t, really?)
Am I wearing the right clothes?
Do I use the new slang?
Am I aware of that new song or TV series? 

As I aged, seeking approval transferred to my professors, employers, and colleagues.
Do I appear smart enough? 
Have I achieved enough?  
Did I sell enough, make enough, earn enough? 

Seeking approval, which is really a craving for affirmation, is not inherently wrong. What begins in childhood as a need to be filled by ones immediate nurturing community (family) must mature inward. Seeking approval in adulthood is the consequence of an undeveloped sense of self and misplaced security. 

In childhood, seeking approval is an embrace of vulnerability and a fear of isolation; in adulthood it is protection from vulnerability and a fear of authentic connection. 

Perhaps this is why so many grown men share affirmation as their “love language”. It’s the result of an undeveloped ability to belong to themselves and a latent childhood craving to fit in.

Energy of Acceptance

[Vulnerability & Power - IX] 

Fitting in takes a lot of energy, but the payoff is worth it. 

Don’t believe the lie. 

We believe that a little sacrifice of our authentic self, a little tweaking of our perspective, a small renovation of our convictions, and some repressing of our sensitivities are all a smaller price to pay for the payout of belonging to the group. But the return on investment is not the invaluable experience of belonging; rather, it’s fitting in, which is being accepted on the terms of the group, regardless of who we really are. 

The truth is that we spend a lot of energy on fitting in, and what we get is participation in a “community” that values who we’re not more than who we are. The payoff doesn’t fulfill but further exhausts us. 

Belonging requires we first and foremost stop expending our energy being accepted. 

[h/t Brene Brown]

Half Step Fwd; Two Back

[Vulnerability & Power - VIII] 

We spend much our lives in the tension between the life we wish we lived and the life we actually live. The tension can drive us mad, send us into a downward spiral of regret, or tilt us toward depression. Many will take almost any measure and pay almost any amount to manage the distance between the ideal and the real. 

Thank goodness for social media. Instead of going broke trying to perpetually travel (which makes being grounded truly impossible), we can take pictures of the most mundane outings and project to the world that we are adventurous travelers. Social media becomes our means of ostensibly living the ideal life we wish we lived. Onlookers will think we are living the life they idealize, too, the one they are in deep tension with.  (Whether we do it intentionally or not, the medium inherently promotes this type of “networking”.)  

Filtered “honesty”, curated content, and idealized projections distance us from others despite feeling like it draws us closer. So, while we sense we are sharing in the ideal, we are moving further away from the community we sincerely desire. It’s a half step forward and two steps back. 

Unfiltered honesty, on the other hand, is not the curation of the life we want to live nor is it the network of friends we create that are all filtering their lives. Unfiltered honesty is first squaring up to the life we actually live, and then sharing that life with others. It takes courage, often hurts, but is the only threshold over which we can step toward community and family.

Running Away or Toward

[Vulnerability & Power - VII] 

How far into the woods would you have to move to safely hide from everyone that potentially could hurt you? How deep would the cave need to be. How fortified the bunker? 

Hiding from others certainly protects you from exposure. It’s also where shame festers, where your nightmares haunt, and where your inner demons attack uninhibited. 

In the presence of others, however, is where you are most threatened. To be exposed. To lose your ability to hide. But it’s also out in the open, in the gaze of listening friends and beloved others that light is cast on shame, nightmares halt, and demons are suffocated. 

Others are dangerous, sometimes poisonous, and always at some level a threat.

Others can also be healing ointment and have the potential to shield us from our worst self. 

Running from others is temporarily safe (and sometimes necessary). Running toward others is the only way to find lasting safety (and must be done with caution).