“Now take a deep breath and tilt your head back. Hold it there for just a few moments”.
“Wow, this is extremely vulnerable,” I said softly, eyes closed.
“I know, it’s supposed to be,” she said knowingly.
I sat there on my yoga mat stunned. I felt exposed. My vivid imagination flashed several scenarios where being in this position could have led to my demise.
I came back and continued with the next series of poses.
We hear the word “vulnerable” more and more when speaking of relationships and social situations. What does it mean to be vulnerable? It comes from the Latin vulnus or ‘wound’. Soldiers wear armor in combat. Nurses use gloves and masks while caring for patients. We wear helmets and knee pads in sports. Why? To protect the delicate areas from potential risk, impact or injury.
The same way we protect our bodies, we also learn to shield ourselves from others in an attempt to protect our hearts. The wound? Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. Abandonment. Instability. Manipulation. Gaslighting. It can come from a parent, from a former lover, a current lover. A friend. Perfect strangers. Society. After all that, who would really want to “stick their neck out there”?
Anahata is a Sanskrit word for the heart chakra meaning “unhurt” or “unstruck sound”. Unhurt? How can our hearts remain unhurt when people do indeed hurt us? Or when we use other people to hurt ourselves? Most of the sounds we perceive happen because one thing strikes another. How else will the drum sound unless we beat it? It’s virtually impossible to “play” without someone “getting hurt”. An ex of mine played djembe from childhood, and he spoke of times when he’d play until his fingers blistered and bled.
Often times we equate self-expression and openness with weakness. With this wall that we’ve built and that armor that we wear we feel strong. Truth is, though the threat cannot penetrate, our safety comes at a cost. We limit the full potential of our life experience. We hide who we are, what we want and live inauthentically. We sacrifice true connection to shut out pain and discomfort but we also shut out opportunity, love, adventure, pleasure, blessings, passion. We shut out everything.
I once had a conversation with someone about living authentically. I confessed that I was hiding and holding back for fear of another person seeing me for who I was and walking away. After a brief pause, she asked me, “Would you rather them not know you and stay or know you and walk away?” That question knocked the air out of my chest because I honestly didn’t know who I was or what image I was trying to protect in the first place.
Soon after that conversation, someone came along and made space for me to open up and be myself. Naked, raw and unfiltered. They stayed for a while and it was amazing. They eventually walked away and it stung like hell.
Being vulnerable allowed me to uncover what was hidden within. That unstruck sound. It’s the kind of internal sound that you have to be still and sit with. Listen deeply. Some were my gifts, my passions, and talents. Some were stories of joy, fulfillment, desire, adventure. There was also a lot of pain. Ignored requests and needs. Repression, rejection, ridicule, and failure live(d) there. This is what I was running from- my shadow. My soiled linen and dirty drawers. The shit I ain’t proud of. The things I’d love to forget. But I finally got to see exactly who I was.
So I say:
Open your heart. Stand up in it. Get naked. Strip down. Take it off, peel it off. Remove the mask. Stand in front of the mirror and look. Let ‘em know what you think about when you watch the sun come up. Let ‘em see your shit. The scars. Those stories you wanted to forget.
Let ‘em know your deepest desires and what really turns you on.
You may be dismissed, misunderstood, even rejected. Or you may get your needs met.
Like, never in your wildest dreams, met.
You’ll be surprised what may happen.
Might it be worth the risk to find out?