i am sassa

Our culture is emotionally constipated. To reach empathy and compassion for others, you might have to be a proctologist. A fitting analogy, I think, since the real work feels very similar to what I imagine it would feel like to sift through years of backed up shit looking for answers. To reach empathy and compassion for yourself, the job is even harder, dirtier, and more painful, and there is no skipping it. It has to come first.

Thankfully, we have people like Brené Brown who are able to show us the way, and she does so with much more eloquence than I possess. Her TED Talk about vulnerability has 14 million views on YouTube. It was the thing that shoved this social science researcher into the spotlight that she never saw coming, and wasn’t exactly at ease with as an introvert. I can relate.

Brené’s research deals with vulnerability and shame. You know, dinner table conversation stuff. I’ve learned from her that being truly vulnerable means being unsure of the outcome of a high stakes situation, and giving yourself over to it fully anyway. One where you might get hurt, embarrassed, or fail. It helps if you can learn to see the giving over as a victory in itself.

I wish I had a thousand trophies to give out today. I’ve spent most of my time with Brené and my palette today, but the times I’ve hopped online to check in…let’s just say, I see you. I see you, Nancy, in your pearls and sparkly Chuck Taylors, shining your hopeful light in the dark. I see you, Christy, sharing your election day music. I see you, Mary, sharing the words of poets you love to help us through today. Mandee, reaching out with words of encouragement. I see you Jessica, sharing the pain of the loss of your mother, reminding us to hold our loved ones close no matter what storm may rage inside or outside of us. I see you Ally, sharing your excitement and nervousness over your own name on the ballot. I see all of you, glowing absolutely beautiful behind your I Voted stickers. Knowing what is at stake, what there is to lose, to gain. But instead of projecting your fear and anger, instead of lashing out at others who feel differently, you’re just glowing so brightly that I can’t not see you.

I don’t see vulnerability as a scary, naked state of being anymore. The work I’ve done that allows me to feel empathy, compassion, and vulnerability in a way is an armor, to which I’ve added every word I have ever heard Brené Brown speak. She is a joy to listen to, and makes the shit-sifting we all must do to be our best selves feel so much less gross and lonely.

Thank you, Brené Brown.