03.6.2008 | by Brené Brown | in love thursday, authenticity Share Article Email Article Print Article 16 Comments Her work inspires me and her "how-to's" make me feel capable! It's a magic combination!
Thursday
06Mar
love thursday
A few weeks ago, I did a workshop on empathy and compassion at the Houston Jung Center. After the workshop, a young woman walked up to thank me for the class. We chatted for a minute then she said, “Well . . . that’s all. Thanks.” Then she just stood there. I paused for a minute, thinking she would move, but she didn’t. I finally smiled at her and said, “You look like you have a question.” She looked down at the table and said, “I just don’t understand why someone like you would study something as terrible as shame or something as scary as vulnerability? Why would you spend year after year talking to people about such hard topics?”
Ouch. The question hurt. She must have sensed that I was struggling to come up with an answer because she started explaining herself: “I mean you are so normal. You seem like a really happy, positive person. It’s just weird to see someone like you doing this kind of work.”
I know her explanation was an attempt to help, but it hurt more. Regardless of her intentions, she had landed in my stuff. Should I be embarrassed about my work? Dare I say, ashamed?
Every single day for one week, I prayed and meditated on that question: Why do I do this work? I knew I couldn’t force or fight my way to the answer; those days are gone for me. So much of my personal work last year was about letting go of "intellectualizing" and creating answers instead of discovering them. It was hard, but I tried to get very still and open my heart so that the answers could come.
It would be so nice if the universe could send answers in emails, or maybe something old-school, like a telegraph. But, no. I figured out why I do the work I do standing at a podium in front of 100 people on Monday night.
I delivered the keynote address kicking off Women’s Studies week at the University of Houston-Clear Lake. The faculty wanted something more “inspirational” and less “educational” so I agreed to leave my beloved PowerPoint at home. To prepare for the talk, I simply jotted down these six words on a piece of paper: “Why do I do this work?” That’s it. I didn’t write down the answers – just the question.
I know what you’re thinking. If standing in front of 100 strangers with nothing but that question isn’t forcing the answer, what is?
What can I say? It’s just they way it works for me sometimes.
I explained the origins of the question to the group and, as my voice cracked, I explained my answer.
Ouch. The question hurt. She must have sensed that I was struggling to come up with an answer because she started explaining herself: “I mean you are so normal. You seem like a really happy, positive person. It’s just weird to see someone like you doing this kind of work.”
I know her explanation was an attempt to help, but it hurt more. Regardless of her intentions, she had landed in my stuff. Should I be embarrassed about my work? Dare I say, ashamed?
Every single day for one week, I prayed and meditated on that question: Why do I do this work? I knew I couldn’t force or fight my way to the answer; those days are gone for me. So much of my personal work last year was about letting go of "intellectualizing" and creating answers instead of discovering them. It was hard, but I tried to get very still and open my heart so that the answers could come.
It would be so nice if the universe could send answers in emails, or maybe something old-school, like a telegraph. But, no. I figured out why I do the work I do standing at a podium in front of 100 people on Monday night.
I delivered the keynote address kicking off Women’s Studies week at the University of Houston-Clear Lake. The faculty wanted something more “inspirational” and less “educational” so I agreed to leave my beloved PowerPoint at home. To prepare for the talk, I simply jotted down these six words on a piece of paper: “Why do I do this work?” That’s it. I didn’t write down the answers – just the question.
I know what you’re thinking. If standing in front of 100 strangers with nothing but that question isn’t forcing the answer, what is?
What can I say? It’s just they way it works for me sometimes.
I explained the origins of the question to the group and, as my voice cracked, I explained my answer.
Remarkably, I also felt my answer for the very first time.
Sit still. Open your heart. The answers will come.
I woke up the next morning with a terrible vulnerability hangover – this is the term I use in my book to explain the “I can’t believe I shared all of that” feeling. Did I really say all of these things out loud AND in front of 100 people?
I do this work because I believe in love. I believe that loving ourselves is the greatest risk we’ll ever take. I believe that we have to talk about shame if we want to move through it and really experience loving-kindness.
I do this work because I believe in courage. I believe that walking into our fears will give us the courage to tell our stories and change the world.
I do this work because I believe in compassion. I believe that compassion can and will conquer cruelty, but first we must understand why we spend so much time judging and blaming.
I do this work because I believe that we are all connected. I believe that we are more alike than we are different, but finding and celebrating our connections requires empathy and hard conversations about race, gender, class, oppression and privilege.
I do this work because I believe in hope. I believe that finding hope means leaning into the hard conversations, the suffering and hopelessness. If we are willing to acknowledge the pain of hopelessness, we can experience and spread joy and hope.
Sit still. Open your heart. The answers will come.
I woke up the next morning with a terrible vulnerability hangover – this is the term I use in my book to explain the “I can’t believe I shared all of that” feeling. Did I really say all of these things out loud AND in front of 100 people?
Did I really use all of those touchy-feely words like love, joy and hope? I felt empowered, but a little afraid. I felt vulnerable, but stronger.
The best thing to cure a vulnerability hangover is lunch with a good friend. I barely had time to sit down at the table before Farrah reached into her purse and pulled out a small box from Ten Thousand Villages – one of my favorite stores. I love little surprises! I thought to myself, “I need a sweet little gift today – I just came out as a touchy-feely person.”
The best thing to cure a vulnerability hangover is lunch with a good friend. I barely had time to sit down at the table before Farrah reached into her purse and pulled out a small box from Ten Thousand Villages – one of my favorite stores. I love little surprises! I thought to myself, “I need a sweet little gift today – I just came out as a touchy-feely person.”
I opened it up and saw this beautiful cross. Farrah smiled and explained, “It’s made from a spent shell casing from Liberia. I saw it and it reminded me of you.” (That's the cross in the picture).
I loved it right away. After a quarter century of horrific violence, Liberia is working to create healing and peace under the leadership of Africa’s first woman president, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. What a perfect gift!
Then Farrah said, “It reminds me of your work.” I was so caught up in the political significance of the gift that I almost missed what she was saying. She made sure that she had my attention, then said, “You take these dark parts of our lives, like shame and fear, and turn them into beautiful, healing pieces.”
I loved it right away. After a quarter century of horrific violence, Liberia is working to create healing and peace under the leadership of Africa’s first woman president, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. What a perfect gift!
Then Farrah said, “It reminds me of your work.” I was so caught up in the political significance of the gift that I almost missed what she was saying. She made sure that she had my attention, then said, “You take these dark parts of our lives, like shame and fear, and turn them into beautiful, healing pieces.”
It was such a generous thing to say. It took my breath away.
Sit still. Open your heart. The answers will come.
I’ve always felt a little apologetic about my work, like, “I hate to bring up the whole shame
I’ve always felt a little apologetic about my work, like, “I hate to bring up the whole shame
thing, but . . .”
Something in me has changed. I know the topics are tough, but I just can’t back down from conversations about shame, fear, judgment, blame, disconnection and suffering because I believe too deeply in love, courage, compassion, connection and hope. I don't believe in leaning into the discomfort just to prove you can do it. I believe pushing through the hard stuff is really the only way to get to joy and happiness. For me, it's worth the push.
Something in me has changed. I know the topics are tough, but I just can’t back down from conversations about shame, fear, judgment, blame, disconnection and suffering because I believe too deeply in love, courage, compassion, connection and hope. I don't believe in leaning into the discomfort just to prove you can do it. I believe pushing through the hard stuff is really the only way to get to joy and happiness. For me, it's worth the push.
On this Love Thursday, I'm celebrating my belief in love, beautiful things crafted out of sorrow and lunch with friends.
Any thoughts on the power of pushing through?
03.6.2008 | by Brené Brown | in love thursday, authenticity Share Article Email Article Print Article 16 Comments
Reader Comments (16)
I have to tell you how much I admire your courage. I'm impressed by the way you share your feelings and your vulnerability. I know as social workers, that's all we ever talk about, but so many of us never really do it. I feel like I have grown just by witnessing your sharing. And I know I have grown so much from your work on shame.
This posting reminded me of a phone message I listened to about a year and a half ago from a friend asking me to help her with a group she was facilitating. There were a lot of sexual abuse issues coming up and she said, you are the go to person on sexual abuse. It hit me really hard. I started crying. I didn't want to be the go to person on sexual abuse. I thought, why can't I be the go to person on horses or puppies or roses, anything but sexual abuse. I think that was a first step on my journey away from the women's center and to my current work with horses. But guess what, many of my new clients are survivors and I feel almost like I was sent to help them. I still feel drawn to sexual abuse work. As long as I take care of myself, I really want to do it.
And, I love that you talked about love in front of 100 people. I know you meant it. I love that!
-DebbieO
Brene - your book has been an important piece in my being able to push through. The work you do is so important. And being vulnerable just makes it all that much more real.
Debbie - thanks for sharing. Your comment really moved me.
There is such great power in each of our stories and so much truth in pushing through the hard to get to the happiness. It's much easier to do together than to try to do it alone!
I believe with every fiber of my being that EVERY SINGLE PERSON we encounter on a daily basis is meant to affect us in some way...whether it's a familiar encounter or one with a perfect stranger. No doubt this brief interaction with the person at your workshop sparked thought-provoking questions deep within you--that was this stranger's purpose. Alleluia for coming to the conclusion that you LOVE what you do and that your work is powerful stuff.
Very, very cool.
Awesome.
To my thinking, the only reason not to do the work would be if you didn't want to, didn't feel it was right for you. But if you felt drawn to do it--then that means there is something very precious that you have to contribute to the world. And such a work...so many, many lives can be made better through what you do.
I am a firm believer that those of us who have experienced pain or trauma, those of us who have survived something, have a valuable gift to offer the world. For me, that means raising awareness for carbon monoxide poisoning, and focusing my work on helping others realize that the dreams they have within themselves are worthy of achievement--no matter what others have said to them, or how life has made them feel.
There are so many needs to fill in the world...if one is called to fill a hard, unpleasant need, they have my utmost respect and gratitude.
May you be blessed in your worthy work--be encouraged, be confident! You're doing a great job. (And your photography is wonderful.) :-)
Vi
You have no idea how many people might read this and think, "It's OK to get help." I've had several friends who struggled with PPD and I've had my own experiences with depression - it can be dark and lonely. Your story adds light and connection - thank you.
to everyone else - this was a tough post for me. thanks for taking the time to leave your thoughts. It means a lot to me.
I just returned from a retreat at the IMC in Barre, where I "sat still and listened" and got so many wonderful answers!
Thanks!
There is so much wisdom in these words.
I just discovered your insightful blog. Thank you for sharing.
I intially appreciated this entry - and yesterday - it was my inspiration when I was doing a presentation on Childhood stress, Childhood Trauma & Developmental Implications & Interventions
A computer hic-up left my power point inaccessable - both on my computer & my jump drive memory stick!
In an attempt to go paperless, I was emtyhanded and for a nano-second felt my mouth get so dry my mouth and gums were sealed shut !!
Then I recalled your Question - and your input saved the day. It was the 1st time I walked a tight rope w.no safety net & the feedback was great - I think it actually worked out better in some ways - I was in the zone & came from a place of passion.
thank you dear for continuing your courageous journey - you continue to inspire me to push through momentenst of fear that can be sooo paralyzing... funny - it is all about the courage to come from your heart propelled me to move beyond the brain-freezing fear... you are a gift !!
Instantly I was
I can't quite wrap my mind around the question that sparked your talk at the University. I wonder if the young woman struggled with her own shame in her interest in the subject?
I read your words, and I think- who wouldn't want to study this, to do this good work?
I'm with you- not pushing through for the sake of it, but pushing through because where there is risk there is great opportunity.