There’s a crack in everything.
That’s how light gets in.
—Leonard Cohen
The more we lean into our vulnerabilities, the more open we become to spiritual transformation, for one unlocks the door to the other. The moment we lean into our vulnerabilities, courageously stepping through this portal to personal transformation, we find that love has been there all along.
Health, relationships, and finances are the areas of our lives in which we feel most vulnerable. Whether or not we had a healthy and loving childhood, we all experience some form of loss or suffering in our lives as a reflection of the human condition. Our subsequent pain, while unresolved, keeps us moving in habitual ways and inhibits us from co-creating and cultivating a fulfilling and happy life.
Leaning into our health, relationship, financial, or other vulnerabilities requires spending time alone so we can focus on whatever unresolved pain begins to surface. Many of us find that being alone with ourselves is scary, making us feel uncomfortable. Yet it gives us the opportunity to observe and reflect on our feelings of unworthiness and disconnection. It’s important that when we spend time alone we are compassionate company for ourselves, as if spending time with an old, trusted friend whom we unconditionally love and accept.
Spending time alone creates a sacred space for checking in with ourselves and becoming aware of the source of our vulnerabilities. For example, while I was searching for my mother my unresolved pain started breaking through the protective barriers I had set up early in my life. So ensconced in my burgundy corduroy chair, my safe sanctuary, I took time to reflect on the anguish that threatened to engulf until it seemed I had shattered into a million shards of glass; then, with compassion, I leaned into my deepest vulnerability, the fear that I was unlovable. I emerged from the experience aware that this fear had colored nearly my entire life experience and that its source was abandonment by my mother when I was eight.
When we confront the source of our vulnerabilities, we often discover that the person or situation causing our distress is not as formidable as the fear amplified in our minds and blocking the flow of energy we need to thrive. When we trust ourselves as a source of genuine power, our courage can kick in, enabling us to face what frightens us most and witness firsthand that our vulnerabilities are no match for the energy of love.
Until we allow ourselves time alone to lean into our vulnerabilities, we may not even realize that our bodies, especially our autonomic nervous systems, hold on to pain. For example, we may have body parts we no longer feel, shallow breathing, or a nervous system in a constant state of anxiety. In her book Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott states: “When we have a wound in our body, the nearby muscles cramp around it to protect it from more violation and infection. Moreover, we need to use these muscles if we want them to relax again and work. Something similar happens with our psychic muscles, they cramp around our wounds from childhood, the losses and disappointments of adulthood, the humiliation suffered in both—to keep us from getting to the same place again, to keep a foreign substance out. So these wounds never have a chance to heal.”
Our physical and emotional reactions expose our unresolved pain. Like little alarms, they alert us to pause, check in, and notice what needs to be healed. [add a line or two here about physical reactions that indicate the presence of energy blocks, to precede the emotional reactions mentioned next, per opening sentence of para] Emotional reactions such as anger, irritation, anxiety, blame, defensiveness, or attack reveal our deepest vulnerabilities, showing us where energy blocks are most likely numbing our pain. Digging deeper, we usually find that underneath these physical and emotional symptoms are feelings of hurt and disappointment.
Physical or emotional reactions that have become habitual coalesce into negative behavioral patterns. Therefore, anytime we exhibit an undesirable behavioral pattern it can cue us in to the precipitating reaction and, beneath it, an unresolved pain. Such negative behavioral patterns need not have originated with us but rather may have been triggered by behavioral patterns evident in another person or situation. Nonetheless, no matter where a pattern originates, the stronger the reaction is, the more deeply seated our vulnerability is to that particular person or situation.
Consciously observing our physical and emotional reactions from an expanded spiritual perspective can help us see the patterns being triggered. Giving ourselves permission to push the pause button and interrupt any reaction helps us detach sufficiently from the person or situation to gauge what is going on within us. After pausing, we can lean into our vulnerabilities, notice where our bodies are holding tension and creating energy blocks, and ask ourselves such questions as” “What is this physical or emotional reaction telling me about my vulnerabilities?” “Where is the origin of the pattern being triggered?” and “What spiritual information am I being guided to see?”
Unfortunately, many of us dip our toes into the waters of vulnerability then pull back before getting too deeply into our pain. We think that by staying on the sideline strapped inside our fluorescent orange life jacket of avoidance, we are safe and won’t have to jump into the water. Yet actually what we must do is take the leap, overcoming the barriers we erected, to break open our hearts and find the pain needing to be healed. Sometimes a crisis such as illness or loss forces us to lean into our vulnerabilities and open to love and spiritual healing. However it occurs, without full acknowledgment and release, pain creates chronic distress that can manifest as depression, anxiety, or physical illness. Being fully present with our pain brings about self-healing.
Our vulnerabilities offer us a great gift because when we lean into them we confront ourselves directly, initiating a kind of death. Through metaphorical death, we can release the past and confront ourselves with nothing, “no thing,” to attach to except ourselves. This creates a shift in our consciousness like the experience of dying and physically detaching from the body. Such a shift can be frightening or disorienting, especially when the brain reacts to letting go of the pain as life-threatening, resulting in anxiety, heart palpitations, and lightheadedness. But what really die are our patterns while our authentic selves rise from the ashes like the phoenix—the mythical creature of purification and transformation that is born anew.
