On vulnerability hangovers
I don't know about you, but sometimes I just want to curl up in the fetal position.
Being a person in the world entails vulnerability, especially in this age of social media. We don’t (and probably can’t, for our own wellbeing) think about how exposed we are at all times, even if it’s in a very curated way. When we are more intentional, we can sometimes choose vulnerability. At other times it’s thrust upon us, and this kind can make us unsafe.
I need to be thoughtful about the latter so that I don’t inadvertently cause danger for others. (This can be as simple as not tagging someone on social media, which can make it easy for bad actors to find and troll that person.) I really spend a lot of time thinking about the former, though. I am a very private person in a public-facing vocation. First I was a congregational minister, which comes with all sorts of vulnerable moments. This includes but is not limited to preaching, in which a pastor shares her deepest beliefs as faithfully as possible, not knowing how her congregation will respond. And now I am not just a spiritual entrepreneur but also a solo practitioner, which means I must put myself out there regularly in order to keep working. I do this through offering coaching relationships, teaching, writing for publication, applying for grants, and more. When too many vulnerable moments converge, I can feel my insides curling in on themselves, and I want to pull a weighted blanket over the meat sack that contains them.
Can you relate?
I want to share a few practices that help me when the vulnerability is too much.
Take a nap. Vulnerability feels like a heaviness in my body. After a lot of it, then, I am physically exhausted. That’s when I know it’s time to take a total break and rest for 30-60 minutes.
Re-ground myself relationally, emotionally, and spiritually. Spiritual entrepreneur is not my primary identity. I am a child of God, and I am a mom, spouse, sister, daughter and friend. I take steps to reaffirm those roles, in which the vulnerability is for a good cause.
Schedule emails and posts. This seems like such a simple step, but it makes a big difference for me. If I need to send a message that could send me into a vulnerability spiral, I write it and set it to deliver later. That lessens the intensity in the present, and I have likely forgotten about the email by the time it goes out.
Switch my scarcity lens to one of abundance. Much of the intensity of vulnerability comes when I am thinking that there is not enough (clients, income, etc.) and that I am not enough. There has always been plenty, and my value is not rooted in my work. It helps to pause and acknowledge these truths.
Reflect on the journey. Sometimes I think about how wild it is that I get to do this work. Church was the last place I wanted to be as a child, because my particular congregation was a place of fear and binary thinking. Coaching was not on my radar. I never intended to have a business, because I saw how entrepreneurship was for my dad and said, “No thanks.” And now I love church, coaching, and having my own practice. God is creative, mischievous, and full of grace and mercy.
How do you deal with vulnerability, since it’s part of the deal of being human and following Jesus?