I turned to the Book of Runes for guidance with my post today. The stone I drew was Sowelu—Wholeness, Life Force, The Sun’s Energy. Sowelu counsels opening yourself up, letting the light into a part of your life that has been secret, shut away. To accomplish this may call for a profound recognition, for admitting to yourself something that you have long denied.

Friends were here for dinner the other night and the inevitable question arose (at least in my mind) about what I intend to birth after my year of blogging is complete. It was a friendly discussion but I felt myself starting to squirm under the scrutiny, unable to articulate what I want and temporarily oblivious to my gifts. I was having a mini shame-storm.

I found myself telling them a story from about fifteen years ago. I was visiting the ocean at Spanish Banks and had a sacramental puff before I walked the shoreline. This particular afternoon I felt conflicted—in an angsty mind-tangle about two important people in my life. Before I knew what was happening I started to collapse and my psyche went into freefall. Down, down, down I went. It felt like I was falling off the edge of the planet. It lasted a long time but eventually I landed back on terra firma. My therapist hypothesized that I’d fallen into what he called the Well of Shame. I wasn’t sure about that explanation at the time, but from this perspective it makes a lot of sense.

The response I had to my friends’ query got my attention. I’ve had some significant shame events in my lifetime, but these were people who care about me and it occurred in the comfort of my own home. If I am to venture out into the world and contribute in the way that I long to, I need to understand this phenomenon and see what I can do to heal it.

Brené Brown is a professor at the University of Houston who has done extensive research into the field of shame and vulnerability. She describes shame as the fear of disconnection: Is there something about me that, if other people know it or see it, that I won’t be worthy of connection? What underpins that shame, she says, is the excruciating vulnerability of being seen. And in order to really connect, we have to allow ourselves to be really seen.

Brené Brown’s theory would explain my lifelong fear of becoming visible as the fear of being found unworthy of connection. This unworthiness touches all areas of my life and affects what I can imagine for myself and my future—in love, career, home, finances. It’s like a built-in set point. I’m worthy of this much but no more.

This Huffington Post article: Why We Feel Shame And How To Conquer It, offered some helpful insights. They say that shame and control are interwoven, and if we can give up our need to control then shame will also disappear. There are two ways this desire for control plays out:

  • It gives us a feeling of control over other people’s feelings and behavior. If we believe we are the cause of their behaviour then we also have the ability to do something about it by changing ourselves.
  • It protects us from other feelings that we are afraid to feel, and gives us a sense of control over our own feelings. Shame could well be covering up other feelings that are even more painful.

The pay-off for keeping this entrenched behaviour in place is obvious. I get to stay small, keep my life contained and controlled, and avoid the risk of the great unknown. But my spirit is longing for so much more. It’s time for a new set-point.

Last night I started imagining what wholeness would feel like if I could get out of my own way. Sowelu goes on to say:  Practice the art of doing without doing: Aim yourself truly and then maintain your aim without manipulative effort.

In my journey towards wholeness today it took writing about shame to get me there. I’ve got more distance to cover, but I feel like I’ve discovered a significant key.

What stands in the way of more wholeness in your life? Let me know, I’d love to hear!

 

2 Comments

  1. Synchronistically, I was working on something similar yesterday….how precocious tendencies in childhood rendered me “special” in some eyes but, in the perverse ways that ego structures can develop, left me feeling deficient and unable to meet others expectations. Also a sense of being forsaken, that these flashes of childhood brilliance had burdened me with a responsibility I could not fulfill. Though I couldn’t truly let myself know it, I felt like an imposter, with the attendant sense of shame and fear of how others would see me if they really knew. So impressive to see how this dense matrix of formative impressions has so indelibly imprinted my soul and stayed with me all these years. Still a work in progress (obviously:0)!) but some resolution started to arise as I began to untangle beliefs and objective reality…..feelings of helplessness, compassion for the helpless one, the recognition on a spiritual level that, through it all, I had always been held in a kind and loving way – which gave me a sense of inherent value (not forsaken), regardless of my capacity to meet expectations. Thankyou Amy for your ongoing openness and vulnerability in this project, which is a support and inspiration to me.XOXO

    Reply
    • Dear Elizabeth ~ Thank you for your deep and honest reflections. What a gift you are — and an inspiration! Love to you, dear heart. xoxo

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