Today is February 3. It is Day 3 of the Month of Letters challenge; so far, I am meeting the challenge, with postings to friends in Minnesota, Texas and Northern New Jersey.
This weekend, I will spend at least an hour organizing mailings for the coming week.
Today’s letter is written to a dear friend in Northern New Jersey. In it, I said the following:
I believe in being vulnerable. I believe it is a good and necessary thing in this world. I believe that being hurt and allowing others to see it is a path toward growth, toward greater compassion and forgiveness. And maybe wisdom.
I think that, more often than not, I practice this in my daily life. I am open to people from the beginning, and often even after others suggest I shouldn’t be. I have several friends who believe that vulnerability is a weakness, or something shameful, and I simply disagree.
I read the most appalling article this afternoon. It was painful in so many ways, and I really feel now that my heart is heavier than it was an hour ago. There is a physical ache in my chest, and, in this moment, I am fearful in ways that I have only barely imagined.
I wanted to close down when I read this. I wanted to not feel anything. Instead, I am choosing – actively, consciously choosing – to feel it. And already, I am experiencing the compassion: a Twitter friend is sending me poems to act as a balm, starting with Dorothy Parker’s “Resumé.”
Be vulnerable, friends.