Daring GreatlyThese are my favorite parts of this book:"Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It's going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging." (p. 10)
"When it comes to parenThese are my favorite parts of this book:"Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It's going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging." (p. 10)"When it comes to parenting, the practice of framing mothers and fathers as good or bad is both rampant and corrosive--it turns parenting into shame minefield. The real questions for parents should be: "Are you engaged? Are you paying attention?" If so, plan to make lots of mistakes and bad decisions. Imperfect parenting moments turn into gifts as our children watch us try to figure out what went wrong and how we can do better next time." (p. 15)"One of my very favorite writers on scarcity is global activist and fund-raiser Lynne Twist. In her book The Soul of Money, she refers to scarcity as "the great lie." She writes:For me, and for many of us, our first waking thought of the day is "I didn't get enough sleep." The next one is "I don't have enough time." Whether true or not, that thought of not enough occurs to us automatically before we even think to question or examine it. We spend most of the hours and the days of our lives hearing, explaining, complaining, or worrying about what we don't have enough of.... Before we even sit up in bed, before our feet touch the floor, we're already inadequate, already behind, already losing, already lacking something. And by the time we go to bed at night, our minds are racing with a litany of what we didn't get, or didn't get done, that day. We go to sleep burdened by those thoughts and wake up to that reverie of lack.... This internal condition of scarcity, this mind-set of scarcity, lives at the very heart of our jealousies, our prejudice, and our arguments with life.... (43-45)" (p. 25-26)"What makes this constant assessing and comparing so self-defeating is that we are often comparing our lives, our marriages, our families, and our communities to unattainable, media-driven visions of perfection, or we're holding up our reality against our own fictional account of how great someone else has it. Nostalgia is also a dangerous form of comparison. Think about how often we compare ourselves and our lives to a memory that nostalgia has so completely edited that it never really existed: "Remember when...? Those were the days..." (p. 26)"One way to think about the three components of scarcity and how they influence culture is to reflect upon the following questions. As you're reading the questions, its' helpful to keep in mind any culture or social system that you're a part of, whether your classroom, your family, your community, or maybe your work team:1. Shame: Is fear of ridicule and belittling used to manage people and/or to keep people in line? Is self-worth tied to achievement, productivity, or compliance? Are blaming and finger-pointing norms? Are put-downs and name-calling rampant? What about favoritism? Is perfectionism an issue?2. Comparison: Healthy competition can be beneficial, but is there constant overt or covert comparing and ranking? Has creativity been suffocated? Are people held to one narrow standard rather than acknowledged for their unique gifts and contributions? Is there an ideal way of being or one form of talent that is used as measurement of everyone else's worth?3. Disengagement: Are people afraid to take risks or try new things? Is it easier to stay quiet than to share stories, experiences, and ideas? Does it feel as if no one is really paying attention or listening? Is everyone struggling to be seen and heard?" (p. 28)"Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage." (p. 37)"Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me. I'm drawn to your vulnerability but repelled by mine." (p. 42)"Give me the courage to show up and let myself be seen." (p. 42)"In the song "Hallelujah," Leonard Cohen writes, "Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." Love is a form of vulnerability and if you replace the word love with vulnerability in that line, it's just as true. From calling a friend who's experienced a terrible tragedy to starting your own business, from feeling terrified to experiencing liberation, vulnerability is life's great dare. It's life asking, "Are you all in? Can you value your own vulnerability as much as you value it in others? Answering yes to these questions is not weakness: It's courage beyond measure. It's daring greatly. And often the result of daring greatly isn't a victory march as much as it is a quiet sense of freedom mixed with a little battle fatigue." (p. 43)"When we pretend that we can avoid vulnerability we engage in behaviors that are often inconsistent with who we want to be." (p. 45)"Vulnerability is about sharing our feelings and our experiences with people who have earned the right to hear them. Being vulnerable and open is mutual and an integral part of the trust-building process." (p. 45)"That's
not vulnerability. That may be desperation or woundedness or even attention-seeking, but it's not vulnerability. Why? Because sharing appropriately, with boundaries, means sharing with people with whom we've developed relationships that can bear the weight of our story. The result of this mutually respectful vulnerability is increased connection, trust, and engagement." (p. 46)"We need to feel trust to be vulnerable and we need to be vulnerable in order to trust." (p. 47)"Ah, the marble jar. Perfect. I told Ellen to think about her friendships as marble jars. Whenever someone supports you, or is kind to you, or sticks up for you, or honors what you share with them as private, you put marbles in the jar. When people are mean, or disrespectful, or share your secrets, marbles come out. When I asked her if it made sense, she nodded her head with excitement and said, "I've got marble jar friends!"" (p. 48)"Trust is built one marble at a time." (p. 49)"When we think about betrayal in terms of the marble jar metaphor, most of us think of someone we trust doing something so terrible that it forces us to grab the jar and dump out every sing marble. ...[T]here is a particular sort of betrayal that is more insidious and equally corrosive to trust. In fact, this betrayal usually happens long before the other ones. I'm talking about the betrayal of disengagement. Of not caring. Of letting the connection go. Of not being willing to devote time and effort to the relationship.When the people we love or with whom we have a deep connection stop caring, stop paying attention, stop investing, and stop fighting for the relationship, trust begins to slip away and hurt starts seeping in. Disengagement triggers shame and our greatest fears--the fears of being abandoned, unworthy, and unlovable.We may tell a disengaged partner, "You don't seem to care anymore," but without "evidence" of this, the response is "I'm home from work every night by six P.M. I tuck in the kids. I'm taking the boys to Little League. What do you want from me?" Or at work, we think, Why am I not getting feedback? Tell me you love it! Tell me it sucks! Just tell me something so I know you remember that I work here!With children, actions speak louder than words. When we stop requesting invitations into their lives by asking about their day, asking them to tell us about their favorite songs, wondering how their friends are doing, then children feel pain and fear (and not relief, despite how our teenagers may act). Because they can't articulate how they feel about our disengagement when we stop making an effort with them, they show us by acting out, thinking, This will get their attention." (p. 51-52)"[T]he vulnerability journey is not the kind of journey we can make alone. We need support. We need folks who will let us try on new ways of being without judging us. We need a hand to pull us up off the ground when we get kicked down in the arena (and if we live a courageous life, that will happen)." (p.53)"I want our home to be a place where we can be our bravest selves and our most fearful selves. Where we practice difficult conversations and share our shaming moments from school and work. I want to look at Steve and my kids and say, "I'm with you. In the arena. And when we fail, we'll fail together, while daring greatly." We simply can't learn to be more vulnerable and courageous on our own. Sometimes our first and greatest dare is asking for support." (p. 56)"We have to be vulnerable if we want more courage; if we want to dare greatly. But as I told my Harry Potter friend, how can we let ourselves be seen if shame has us terrified of what people might think?Let me give you an example.You've designed a product or written an article or created a piece of art that you want to share with a group of friends. Sharing something that you've created is a vulnerable but essential part of engaged and Wholehearted living. It's the epitome of daring greatly. But because of how you were raised or how you approach the world, you've knowingly or unknowingly attached your self-worth to how your product or art is received. In simple terms, if they love it, you're worthy; if they don't you're worthless.One of two things happens at this point in the process:1. Once you realize that your self-worth is hitched to what you've produced or created, it's unlikely that you'll share it, or if you do, you'll strip away a layer or two of the juiciest creativity and innovation to make the revealing less risky. There's too much on the line to just put your wildest creations out there.2. If you do share it in its most creative form and the reception doesn't meet your expectations, you're crushed. Your offering is no good and you're no good. The chances of soliciting feedback, reengaging, and going back to the drawing board are slim. You shut down. Shame tells you that you shouldn't have even tried. Shame tells you that you're not good enough and you should have known better.
If you're wondering what happens if you attach your self-worth to your art or your product and people love it, let me answer that from personal and professional experience. You're in even deeper trouble. Everything shame needs to hijack and control your life is in place. You've handed over your self-worth to what people think. It's panned out a couple of times, but now it feels a lot like Hotel California: You can check in, but you can never leave. You're officially a prisoner of "pleasing, performing, and perfecting."" (p. 64)...more