Dr Brené Brown: “When I was a young researcher, doctoral student, my first year I had a research professor who said to us, “Here’s the thing, if you cannot measure it, it does not exist.” And I was like, “Really?” and he was like, “Absolutely.” #HealingTrauma
And so you have to understand that I have a bachelor’s in social work, a master’s in social work, and I was getting my Ph.D. in social work, so my entire academic career was surrounded by people who kind of believed in the “life’s messy, love it.”
And I’m like, knock discomfort upside the head and move it over and get all A’s. That was my mantra. So I was very excited about this. And so I thought, you know what, this is the career for me, because I am interested in some messy topics. But I want to be able to make them not messy.
Connection: So where I started was with connection. Because, by the time you’re a social worker for 10 years, what you realize is that connection is why we’re here. It’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives. This is what it’s all about.
It doesn’t matter whether you talk to people who work in social justice and mental health and abuse and neglect, what we know is that connection, the ability to feel connected, is — neurobiologically that’s how we’re wired — it’s why we’re here.
And when you ask people about love, they tell you about heartbreak. When you ask people about belonging, they’ll tell you their most excruciating experiences of being excluded. And when you ask people about connection, the stories they told me were about disconnection.
Shame: So very quickly — really about six weeks into this research — I ran into this unnamed thing that absolutely unraveled connection in a way that I didn’t understand or had never seen. And it turned out to be ‘shame’.
And shame is really easily understood as the fear of disconnection: Is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, that I won’t be worthy of connection? The things I can tell you about it: it’s universal; we all have it.
The only people who don’t experience shame have no capacity for human empathy or connection. No one wants to talk about it, and the less you talk about it the more you have it. What underpinned this shame, this “I’m not good enough,” — which we all know that feeling:
“I’m not blank enough. I’m not thin enough, rich enough, beautiful enough, smart enough, promoted enough.” The thing that underpinned this was excruciating vulnerability, this idea of, in order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen, really seen.
And you know how I feel about vulnerability. I hate vulnerability. And so I thought, this is my chance to beat it back with my measuring stick. I’m going to totally deconstruct shame, I’m going to understand how vulnerability works, and I’m going to outsmart it.
As you know, it’s not going to turn out well. So, I could tell you a lot about shame. But here’s what it boils down to — and this may be one of the most important things that I’ve ever learned in the decade of doing this research.
I wrote a book, I published a theory, but something was not okay — if I roughly took the people I interviewed and divided them into people who really have a sense of worthiness — that’s what this comes down to, a sense of worthiness — they have a strong sense of love and belonging —
and folks who struggle for it, and folks who are always wondering if they’re good enough. There was only one variable that separated the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging and the people who really struggle for it.
And that was, the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging believe they’re worthy of love and belonging. That’s it. They believe they’re worthy. And to me, the hard part of the one thing that keeps us out of connection is our fear that we’re not worthy of connection.
I felt like I needed to understand better. So what I did is I took all of the interviews where I saw worthiness, where I saw people living that way, and just looked at those. What do these people have in common? These are ‘whole-hearted’ people, living from this deep sense of worthiness.
So I started looking at the data. And so here’s what I found. What they had in common was a sense of courage. Courage, the original definition, – it’s from the Latin word cor, meaning heart – and the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.
And so these folks had, very simply, the courage to be imperfect. They had the compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others, because, as it turns out, we can’t practice compassion with other people if we can’t treat ourselves kindly.
And the last was they had connection, and — this was the hard part — as a result of authenticity, they were willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were, which you have to absolutely do that for connection.
The other thing that they had in common was this: They fully embraced vulnerability. They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. They didn’t talk about vulnerability being comfortable, nor did they really talk about it being excruciating —
as I had heard it earlier in the shame interviewing. They just talked about it being necessary. They talked about the willingness to say, “I love you” first, to do something where there are no guarantees, to breathe through waiting for the doctor to call after your mammogram.
They’re willing to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. They thought this was fundamental. I personally thought it was betrayal. I could not believe I that pledged allegiance to research, where our job —
you know, the definition of research is to control and predict, to study phenomena, for the explicit reason to control and predict. And now my mission to control and predict had turned up the answer that the way to live is with vulnerability and to stop controlling and predicting.
This led to a little breakdown. I call it a breakdown; my therapist calls it a spiritual awakening. A spiritual awakening sounds better than breakdown, but I assure you it was a breakdown. So I found a therapist. My first meeting with her, Diana — she said, “What’s going on?”
I said, “Well, I have a vulnerability issue. And I know that vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and our struggle for worthiness, but it appears that it’s also the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love. And I think I have a problem, and I need some help.”
And then I said, “It’s bad, right?” And she said, “It’s neither good nor bad. It just is what it is.” And I said, “Oh my God, this is going to suck.” And it did, and it didn’t. For me, it was a yearlong street fight. It was a slugfest. I lost the fight, but probably won my life back.
And so then I went back into the research and spent the next couple of years really trying to understand what they, the whole-hearted, what choices they were making, and what are we doing with vulnerability. Why do we struggle with it so much?
So this is what I learned. We numb vulnerability — when we’re waiting for the call. I sent something out on Twitter and on Facebook, “How would you define vulnerability? What makes you feel vulnerable?”
Having to ask my husband for help because I’m sick, and we’re newly married; initiating sex with my husband; initiating sex with my wife; being turned down; asking someone out; waiting for the doctor to call back; getting laid off; laying off people — this is the world we live in.
We live in a vulnerable world. And one of the ways we deal with it is we numb vulnerability. And I think there’s evidence — and it’s not the only reason this evidence exists, but I think it’s a huge cause — we are the most in-debt, obese, addicted and medicated adult cohort in history.
The problem is — that you cannot selectively numb emotion. You can’t say, here’s the bad stuff. I don’t want to feel these. I’m going to have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin. And I know that’s knowing laughter. I hack into your lives for a living. God.
You can’t numb those hard feelings without numbing the other affects, our emotions. You cannot selectively numb. So when we numb those, we numb joy, we numb gratitude, we numb happiness. And then we are miserable, and then we feel vulnerable, so then we have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin. And it becomes this dangerous cycle. One of the things that I think we need to think about is why and how we numb. The other thing we do is we make everything that’s uncertain certain.
Religion has gone from a belief in faith and mystery to certainty. I’m right, you’re wrong. Shut up. The more afraid we are, the more vulnerable we are. This is what politics looks like today. There’s no discourse anymore. There’s no conversation. There’s just blame.
You know how blame is described in the research? A way to discharge pain and discomfort. We perfect. But it doesn’t work. We take fat from our butts and put it in our cheeks. Which just, I hope in 100 years, people will look back and go, “Wow.”
And we perfect, most dangerously, our children. They’re hardwired for struggle when they get here. Our job is not to say, “My job is just to keep her perfect. It is to say, “You know what? You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.”
Show me a generation of kids like that, we’ll end the problems we see today. We pretend that what we do doesn’t effect people. We do that in our personal lives. We do that corporate — a bailout, an oil spill, a recall — We just need you to be authentic and real and say, “We’re sorry. We’ll fix it.”
But there’s another way. This is what I have found: to let ourselves be seen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen; to love with our whole hearts, even though there’s no guarantee — and that’s really hard, and I can tell you as a parent, that’s excruciatingly difficult —
to practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, when we’re wondering, “Can I love you this much? Can I believe in this this passionately? Can I be this fierce about this?” just to be able to stop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say,
“I’m just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerable means I’m alive.” And the last, which I think is probably the most important, is to believe that we’re enough. 40/42
Because when we work from a place that says, “I’m enough,” then we stop screaming and start listening, we’re kinder and gentler to the people around us, and we’re kinder and gentler to ourselves.
That’s all I have. Thank you.”
#Kindness #CommonHumanity #Mindfulness
Source: Brené Brown is a research professor at the University of Houston Graduate College of Social Work. She has been studying vulnerability, courage, authenticity, and shame for the past 20 years. In this a transcript of her TED talk, The Power of Vulnerability (2011). https://brenebrown.com
Now you know the power of Trauma Informed Care. Let’s turn this framework into a mindset for personal, social and political change. If you are unable to, you might need help first, to get safe or become ‘unstuck’ from trauma. Reach out for trauma informed care. #YouBelong
Dr Louise Hansen
PhD in Psychology
Human Rights Activist
#HealingTrauma #Justice4Australia #WeAllBelong
Trauma Informed World was inspired by Kopika and Tharnicaa; two faces that remind us everyday of Australia’s cruel refugee system. One of many systems in Australia that remind us of the negative operation of power. #HomeToBilo
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