I love Pooh Bear. Most notably, we share a fondness for elevenses. That and I can always count on his wisdom:
“You can’t stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”
It feels like our generation has forgotten this resoundingly simple truth. We’ll go after a job, a degree, maybe even a date. But we’re often too afraid to venture farther. To apologize for the sake of our friendships, comfort a colleague, invest to transform dates into a relationship, or do anything that leaves us at the mercy of emotion. It’s somehow easier to subsist in a clinically vegetative state than allow ourselves to be passionately vulnerable and risk our feelings.
It was stunning to see this philosophy being foisted upon young women at a recent professional event I attended. We were told to lose the sensitivity. That it is quite literally better to be caught …self-fornicating than crying. Frankly, that’s absurd. Instead of harping on about never crying, maybe try telling us it’s ok to have emotions. Sobbing in a board meeting? It’s probably advisable to avoid that. But having a moment alone to feel your feelings – that’s healthy! It does not make you any less of a professional.
These states of exposure and sensitivity are essential to our humanity. Vulnerability requires strength, yet somehow, society has evolved to covet its death. When I get nerdy about it, I feel like Pooh could have had a fascinating chat with Emile Durkheim about “anomie”. The misalliance of personal and social standards that leaves us grasping for a suit of public armour. So we spend our youth frantically building boxes and padding the walls, hoping it will buffet us against the potential of pain or the risk of appearing weak.
Like Pooh Bear, I’ve always believed in “going to people”. Social armour never made me feel protected, it just constrained me. Yet eschewing it has been a voyage. Some days, the process still eludes me. It’s frustrating to realize you didn’t come equipped with a filter to care less. It’s taken me time to accept that I’m simply hardwired to wear my heart on my sleeve. That by default I will always be more exposed to the risks of failure, rejection, and heartbreak. I know being this way is scary, because it terrifies me actually. Just not as much as the thought of walking away from myself.
So next time you hesitate with those pesky feelings, don't hide. Venture forth out of your comfort zone, because pain is the price of admission my friends. Pay up and get on board. It really is where the magic happens!
