Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Yellow Chair Therapy


(First, listen to this.)
One of the most frustrating things I’ve had to come to terms with in my 24 years of existence was accepting an excruciating emotion;  you know, that gut-wrenching feeling of not feeling good enough, loved enough, (insert anything) enough- also known as  vulnerability. From the time I was old enough to recognize it, it’s something I’ve been trained to run from.  In my 20s, I developed somewhat of a personal vengeance for it- doing everything possible to tackle it, attack it, or numb its presence. You see, because of my job, vulnerability and I also have an understanding with each other. It’s one of the most obvious things I can read on people as they sit in my uncomfortable (…yet adorable) yellow chair as they tell me about the personal struggles in their life. Vulnerability is so overwhelmingly palpable that during its fleeting moments we don’t even know that we’ve succumb to its powers. However, while its presence can be painful, I’ve begun to understand that it is also an integral part of the process. The process of healing, loving, succeeding, whatever it may is that you’ve created as your “goal”. Vulnerability is your reality check- that hand that slaps your face to remind you that you are still here.
One day, I was shown a TED talk with Brene Brown- who studied the in and outs of this feeling- and it clicked. While feeling vulnerable was excruciatingly painful, it was also a necessary part of everything. It’s not good or bad, particularly- but, it’s neutral. So, instead of trying to run, numb, or thinking I have the slightest bit of control over it- I’ve been actively working on having it be my neutral. Of course, there are days where I feel so internally insane that I laugh at myself for trying to put a positive spin on it. But today, as I write to you across from my empty yellow chair- I can tell you that feeling vulnerable is so much better than feeling empty, alone, or unsatisfied. I am so incredibly lucky to have this life, this moment, these people. Some days, I need to sit in my yellow chair and just be.