Tag Archives: Vulnerability

Soul & Solace February 2018

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , , , , ,

Getting Down and Getting Real

A well-intentioned speaker recently promoted volunteerism as a cure for depression. As a person who has, throughout my lifetime, struggled with what Winston Churchill called “the black dog,” and who volunteers regularly, I wanted to offer a different perspective: the possibility of living with depression as spiritual practice. And the same goes for volunteering.

Depression. Depression does not represent a lack of strength or a flaw of character. It’s a treatable condition. One that some pretty awesome people have shared, including Winston Churchill, Martin Luther, John Bunyan, and Howard Butt—founder of the HEB grocery chain and Laity Lodge. And, while potentially devastating, depression can actually be an opportunity. We learn to know ourselves deeply, to practice self-care, and to accept others’ in their woundedness. I would be pleased to visit with you further about the challenge of depression, if you wish.

Volunteering. How can volunteering be a spiritual practice? We can…

  • Stand in another’s shoes. Imagine living through a day as a person with whom you volunteer. If that person is in a wheelchair, how does he get to appointments? How does she prepare meals or practice good hygiene? What does the world look like from his eye level?
  • Get real. Actually loving someone—when they’re cranky or despondent or ungrateful—challenges us to clear away our rose-colored glasses version of what it means to love. Acting for the good of another takes (and promotes) clear spiritual vision.
  • Pre-feed our souls. Volunteering can taste great for the volunteer. But if that’s our sole reason for volunteering, we’re out the minute the cuisine goes stale. And where does that leave the person we’re volunteering with? Instead, we feed our souls before volunteering (because we all need and deserve it), then share from the abundance.
  • Connect face to face. Looking a person in the eye, listening with our full attention is a powerful gift. Fair warning: it also makes us vulnerable. But seeing another—and being seen by another— reminds us that we’re all human and we’re all connected.

What are your thoughts on depression? On volunteering? We’d love to read your thoughts.

November 2012 Soul and Solace

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , , , , ,

Achilles Heel

It’s an ancient story: warrior Achilles was impervious to attack because Mom dipped toddler Achilles in the River Styx. Problem was—she held him by the heel, leaving that one spot vulnerable. You can guess where a poisoned arrow speared poor Achilles. I have an Achilles Heel, too. For me it’s shame. Apply a dose of “I’m so disappointed in you!” or even a raised eyebrow and a shake of head and I’m convinced I am the lowest, slimiest form of life this side of the primordial ooze. I’ve tried to get rid of my heel, but so far haven’t managed a return trip to the River Styx.

Achilles got himself killed either because he didn’t know about his fragile foot or because he thought: “The rest of me is awesome. How important can a heel be anyway?” So recognizing my vulnerability prompts me to seek out some Kevlar boots. Sometimes I find heel support from another person: for instance, Ayn Rand posited that we feel shame when we accept the values of the person trying to shame us. So I can think, “Oh! You want me to be ashamed I did that. But I don’t accept the premise of your shaming. Keep your values and I’ll live by my own, thank you very much.” Other times I protect my heel by not placing myself at the front of a soul-threatening situation. And, if I am assaulted, I permit myself some needed R&R.

What’s your Achilles Heel? Where is your supply of Kevlar boots?