Vulnerability.

Vulnerability.

A word many associate with the negative. A word, that to many means weakness. Such an ideal  is only born of immaturity and fear. I however can understand how people come to see it this way though as I used to be one of them. I was once afraid of it, afraid I’d appear weak, not good enough. I feared the consequences of opening myself up, I feared whatever was shared would be used against me.

What I did not realise is what I was trading for my perceived protection was worth far, far more. The problem many face in their ignorance to the value of vulnerability is a rather complex one, one made up of many facets. So lets try and break it down.

I feel the first major concept one must understand is why one would find value in vulnerability. Essentially this breaks down to creating value within any kind of relationship, including one with your self. What I mean by this is that the more protection one has, the less committed they are, and not only that, the less they have to lose. If you hear of someone flying to the other side of the planet to chase a lover, you think, shit, that person must really love him/her, on account of the high risk and cost if rejection. You see it is this display of vulnerability that instilled value into his/her lover. Lets look at another example, a woman who quits her established career to follow a dream of being an artist. In this example the value is created in the art, for she has raised the stake of its importance, this is therefore transferred directly into this passion.

I can understand some might find this all a little.. abstract. Well, it is. But if you keep following I hope I’ll iron and dispel and doubts you may still have.

In economics there is a term “scarcity creates demand”. This is rather effective term to explain the next point. While one of the more obvious features of being vulnerable, it is nonetheless important. So to explain, why do we value anything? Almost always the value of something comes down to its availability. Can you easily get it, or is it hard to get. I don’t think I need to explain this one too much, except on how it links in. Vulnerability, regardless of how comfortable you are with it is something not something found in abundance, this is where scarcity comes, and you guessed it, demand. As humans we value people who show us vulnerability, it shows how much that person values us, and in return, we value them.

As we get deeper down this rabbit hole the concepts get harder to explain, this next one takes some fundamental rewiring to understand. It is also not easy to explain, but I shall do my best.

Being as it is, and that is rather abstract, these examples might be rather abstract also. But bear with me. So, if we think of heaven, or god even, lets us go with god. So god is meant to be three things, omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent. This is theologians idea of an unlimited being, so the one thing god cannot be in limited. This is where we have our uhuh(!) moment. Because to be all these omni-thingies is the very definition of not being able to value anything. I know, this is confusing, but let me explain. Think for a moment about why we as humans generally love all things “cute”, what would you suggest all these “cute” things generally have in common? I’m fairly certain most of you will agree that is vulnerability. So following this logic you can see, while many may still claim to love god irregardless of this fact, but other things are valued due to their vulnerability. It is where if you remove this vulnerability that you take away the things you love. If kittens had hard skin as protection, we probably wouldn’t find them so cute, if your lover was devoid of emotion like a robot you might find them rather hard to love.

If the world of love and relationships were a market, vulnerability would be like gold, nothing else would be valued as highly. So ask yourself this, why exclude yourself from this market when you have something so valuable to trade. You have it, we all have. 

We just have to be open, be free, be naked, leave you inhibitions, your reservations, your doubts on the floor. Don’t dip your toes in, just jump in. 

If you’re not vulnerable, you’re playing a dumby hand, it’s not real, you aren’t playing for keeps. You only have one foot in ready to pull it out incase you’re caught over investing. Fear will control you till you self author your life.  

You only get one shot, make it count. 

A poem addressed to myself

A poem addressed to myself

Time passes, moments that could have been spent with you are lost.

Building sandcastles on the beach, so high.

Laughing as sand blows into our lunchtime sandwiches, so gritty.

 

Dynamic dreams, opening the door onto a world that is closed.

Waiting for the signposts, so intuitive.

Reality dissolving inside a cup of watery subjectivity, so inviting.

 

Utterly isolated, waiting for what is meant to come to come.

Aching for newness, companionship, love, so eager.

Satisfied and comfortable without however, all too independent.

Living in other peoples insecurities: INFJ

Living in other peoples insecurities: INFJ

The boundary where someone finishes and the INFJ begins is often all too misconstrued, blurred. In the mind of the INFJ that is. From an INFJs perspective that is.

Ever wonder why INFJs are some of the best listeners? We absorb the stances that those we share our lives with take, both defensively and offensively. We hold these stances temporarily, putting our feet in the warm, hopefully not sweaty, shoes of those around us. I gravitate toward people that wear Converse for that reason. Walking around in soemone else’s functional, trendy and comfortable Chuck Taylors for quite some time isn’t too much to ask for, is it?

A problem, a conundrum of epic proportions starts here.

I wear Chuck Taylors. See they are often not only the choice of shoe that those closest to me sport but also the shoe I wear habitually. And I am guilty far too often, of wondering just who’s shoes are on my feet. ‘Are these mine or yours?’, my right brain asks my left.

In friendships, in family and in most occurrences with intimate relationships, the boundary between myself and those that matter has dissolved. The drawbridge is down, the crocodiles in their moat have been fed and the knights in the castle are on lunch break, swords in a pile, leaning against the wall on the far side of the mess hall. Whatever walks across that drawbridge becomes my problem, and not only a problem, a big problem.

I still have a ways to go. I still have a ways to go to understanding people, people’s natures, my own vulnerability.

My castle is strong, my fortress is sturdy. After all this time, I will say it feels cold, it feels hard, devoid of any softness. The battles that I have invited in have torn the place to ribbons overtime. The knights I have lost within my own hallways have dripped off the walls, ponding in places only dust should gather.

Its about time this INFJ cleans up. Buries the bodies, scrubs the floors, mans the towers with lookouts and readies the swords in sheath. Always, this castles drawbridge will remain down, for those who have the depth of personality and bravery to walk inches away from snapping crocodilian jaws. Those who value me. Those who are willing to put their value on the line to understand me and the sacrifice of mine.

A queen will come by one cold afternoon requiring respite, walking within, encapsulated. She will envision my hallways filled with her art, kitchen filled with her favorite ingredients, wardrobe filled with her clothing. She will sit down to share a cup of tea, transfixed with the view, transfixed with the land it overlooks. We will share.

Sharing starts with a cup of tea.

 

 

A sun soaked Saturday morning

A sun soaked Saturday morning

On bed, eyes shut.

Warmth delivering tingles to my face and arms.

Clear white light shining through closed eyelids.

 

Open the window.

The birds outside sing for me, communicating.

Their chirps and tweets offer a complimentary twist to the already soothing melody heard from the lounge.

Ada from The National, ‘What a song, what a sound!’

 

I think of you.

I think of you next to me.

You are at work.