/ (vŭlˈnər-ə-bəl)/
- capable of being wounded or hurt
- susceptible to criticism or persuasion or temptation
- susceptible to attack
I have been vulnerable a lot recently.
I do not like this.
I REALLY do not like this.
I feel the pull to man up, to take care of what needs to be taken care of, to protect and repeal all risk and danger.
I prefer the numbing buzz of stuff to do & things I know - the vuvuzela of modern life that pushes out most of my awareness, consumes so much of my attention that the susceptibility is just outside of my vision.
It confuses me that so many stories of holiness take place in the shaky camera view of vulnerability, that David wrote all those songs and that Julian was enthralled with the vulnerabilities that seemed to consume her.
this is not the operating system that came with my life, it is not the worldview I was bathed in, it is not the race we rats run.
when I think back to the rare stretches of time I spent with my Dad before he passed on, I remember just how vulnerable it seemed, like that sound of CRACK just before the awareness of something breaking unfolds. honestly, that musty stench of vulnerability hung all around my Dad, so much so I avoided it for more than 30 years.
my status seems stuck on vulnerable. I'd like it changed to having it all together, all perfectly put together, even if that is pretend.
I prefer the pretend to the vulnerable.
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