As children we found ways to protect ourselves from vulnerability, from being hurt, diminished, and disappointed. We put on armor; we used our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors as weapons; and we learned how to make ourselves scarce, even to disappear.
Now as adults we realize that it is to live with courage, purpose, and connection--to be the person whom we long to be--we must again be vulnerable. We must take off the armor, put down the weapons, show up and let ourselves be seen.
The word persona is the Greek term for "stage mask". In my work masks and armor are perfect metaphors for how we protect ourselves from the discomfort of vulnerability. Masks make us feel safer even when they become suffocating.
Armor makes us feel stronger even when we grow weary from dragging the extra weight around. The irony is that when we're standing across from someone who is hidden or shielded by masks and armor, we feel frustrated and disconnected.
That's the paradox here: Vulnerability is the last think I want you to see in me, but the first thing I look for in you.
How did we start these defense mechanisms? What does it take to put the armor away? As you peek at your amory, sometimes you are able to get a glimpse of yourself to put down the defenses and try on vulnerability. How do we protect ourselves? When and how did we start using these defense mechanisms? What would it take to make us put the armor away?
Perhaps taking a look at "enough" and the notion of embracing worthiness, boundaries and engagement. That is, showing up, taking risks, and letting myself be seen as enough.
Brene Brown - From the book, Daring Greatly.
Now as adults we realize that it is to live with courage, purpose, and connection--to be the person whom we long to be--we must again be vulnerable. We must take off the armor, put down the weapons, show up and let ourselves be seen.
The word persona is the Greek term for "stage mask". In my work masks and armor are perfect metaphors for how we protect ourselves from the discomfort of vulnerability. Masks make us feel safer even when they become suffocating.
Armor makes us feel stronger even when we grow weary from dragging the extra weight around. The irony is that when we're standing across from someone who is hidden or shielded by masks and armor, we feel frustrated and disconnected.
That's the paradox here: Vulnerability is the last think I want you to see in me, but the first thing I look for in you.
How did we start these defense mechanisms? What does it take to put the armor away? As you peek at your amory, sometimes you are able to get a glimpse of yourself to put down the defenses and try on vulnerability. How do we protect ourselves? When and how did we start using these defense mechanisms? What would it take to make us put the armor away?
Perhaps taking a look at "enough" and the notion of embracing worthiness, boundaries and engagement. That is, showing up, taking risks, and letting myself be seen as enough.
Brene Brown - From the book, Daring Greatly.
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