I'll Tell You A Secret

Lately I’ve been spending Monday evenings over at Justice In The Body (http://www.justiceinthebody.com/) and taking part in a six-week course on The Power of Vulnerability (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCvmsMzlF7o).  I’m learning that there’s a difference (big) between shame and guilt.  I’m also learning that vulnerability isn’t always a dark emotion but is also the birthplace of all the beautiful emotions (empathy, love, joy, compassion) as well.  Our “teacher” for the course is Brene Brown who has been researching shame, vulnerability and something she calls “wholeheartedness” for years.   Along with about 15 others, I watch videos of Brene discussing her findings and then in between clips we talk as a group about what we think and how we feel in reaction to the info she’s presenting.  So, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the ways I avoid or embrace being vulnerable in my daily life and how I carry shame and why.  Big thoughts.

Meanwhile life goes on and this weekend I found myself seated for two solid days in a photography course where I, gulp, tried to learn how the hell a camera works.  And that, my dear friends, has prompted the writing of this blog.

I have a huge confession to make:  I don’t really know how to use a camera -- not “for real” anyway.  Oh, sure, I take some good photos, but the truth is that I NEVER use my camera in the manual mode.  I stay comfortably in the “safe zone” where the camera does all the thinking for me.  Lots of movement to be captured?  Put the camera in the “sports” mode.  Want to take a good head shot of a person?  Switch over to the “portrait” mode.  Looking at a beautiful natural vista? Take the photo in “landscape” mode.  

You may be thinking, “Who cares?  You take great photos, so why does it matter how you get there?”  True enough, but...what matters is how I feel about myself as a photographer and honestly, I feel like a fraud and I carry a lot of shame around with me about that.  I have a website dedicated to my photography where I post thousands of images that people actually fork over money to purchase, just like the “real photographers” do, and yet I am petrified and dumbfounded by figuring out all that stuff about aperture and f-stops and ISO and light metering that goes into taking a photo all by yourself without cheating.  Just typing those photography terms makes my palms sweat and my eye start to twitch.  I mean....do you even know what ISO means?  And do you have any idea about the MATH involved in figuring out f-stops?  It’s all frigging backwards.  If you want to add light, you have to subtract the numbers.  Things are halved and doubled.  The inside of a camera is like a house of mirrors.  What??!!   I get confused and overwhelmed and start feeling stupid and then I shut down.  It’s too hard.  I’m too dumb.  I can’t do it.  Those are the thoughts that fill my head, the old tapes that run in an ongoing loop through my mind, triggered by trying to learn something that is truly challenging for me.  My vulnerability switch is decidedly in the ON position, and my camera goes back into the cheat modes.

When we feel vulnerable, we want to hide.  We want to keep the secret safe from others.  We worry that if people knew about us, they’d reject us, judge us, talk behind our backs, ridicule us....essentially not love us anymore.  It doesn’t really matter what the “secret” is.  For me, it’s the inability to set my camera based on knowledge of the basics of photography and take a photo I can be proud of...to create art on my very own.  For you, it might be something big or something not-so-big.  Perhaps you are unhappy in your relationship and secretly contemplate leaving.   Maybe you struggle with your weight.  You may hide your drinking or your sexual preference.  Living with a secret, whatever it is, triggers shame and shame is a very sucky thing.  Shame silences you, separates you and steals your joy.  It casts a shadow over your life that follows you no matter what else might be going on.  You always have that voice in the back of your head that says, “yeah...but if they only knew the truth about me.”

While learning about vulnerability and shame, there’s also been this bright beacon of light surrounding this concept of “wholeheartedness” that Brene Brown has been bumping into in her research.  She’s found this cross section of people who, despite everything (shitty upbringing, lack of supports, etc.), believe in their own loveability and are able to love others well.  These folks, in the midst of their struggles, never feel like their worthiness is on the chopping block.  They have an underlying good feeling about themselves and others.  The difference with these folks is that they aren’t afraid to be vulnerable.  They are honest about who they are, what they need and want. They have the capacity to engage in their lives with authenticity, cultivate courage and compassion and deeply and profoundly embrace the imperfections of who they really are.  Holy shit, right?  Happiness is something Brene Brown has become intensely interested in, and the one thing she’s found that consistently co-occurs with true happiness is the notion of authenticity.  And in order to be authentic, you’ve got to be okay with a level of vulnerability most of us just aren’t comfortable with.

Before beginning this Power of Vulnerability study group, I thought I didn’t have any problems with vulnerability.  I saw myself as a pretty courageous person...overcoming the pains of my childhood, raising a healthy young adult, starting my own business and working hard to make it a success...those things take guts, right?  But there’s also this dark side...the place where I hide my secrets.  And these secrets keep me from reaching out to people, from engaging in my community in meaningful ways, and from working through my fears and learning to use my precious camera.  Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love to take photographs.  It is the absolute joy of my life, the one thing I can rely on every single day to put me in a better place emotionally.  In fact, my camera is actually a conduit and connecting point for me in otherwise awkward social situations...because I’m actually more of an introvert than an extrovert.  Put a camera in my hands and give me the role of photographer at an event and I feel more comfortable, safer, more relaxed.  

After a full day of instruction on Saturday, I went home, put on my mud boots, loaded my dogs into the car and took them for a long walk in the woods to clear my mind.  When we got to my favorite stream about 20 minutes down the path, the light was soft and beautiful and I watched the water bubbling and roiling over the ice-covered rocks and a few fat tears rolled down my cheeks.  I absolutely LOVE that water.  The number of times I’ve tried to capture it with my camera is too high to count, and honestly it’s not doable without taking a deep breath, putting the camera into the manual mode on a tripod and figuring out the math, deciphering the photography jargon and risking failure.  The truth is there WILL be failures.  I will take rotten, terrible photos.  And I will learn from them.  I will figure it out and at some point, I will start to get it right.  The water will start to look smoky and ethereal.  The rocks will be crisp and in focus.  And I will probably shed a few tears of a different kind, knowing that I did it on my own.   

So I’m out on a limb now and being vulnerable here in print.  I’ve taken my self-worth off the chopping block and I’m screwing up my courage and learning how to use my camera in the manual mode as a gift to myself.  Was this weekend’s photography seminar difficult for me?  You bet.  Was I uncomfortable at times?  Yep.  Did I want to shut down, give up and run away?  A time or two, yes.  But I hung in there because I desperately want this change, and as the different classes went on, I found myself feeling a bit more confident.  And on the breaks, I tried to apply the learning by fiddling with the settings on my camera and pressing the shutter button (which I am now calling the “shudder button”).  And I’ve made a promise to myself to not take a single photo for an entire week, no matter what, in the auto/cheat modes.  

And now it’s your turn, dear reader.  What’s your secret?  What’s that one scary thing you keep hidden from view...that one thing that silences you and steals your peace?  Perhaps it’s time to bring it into the light.  You may sleep better tonight with that weight off your chest, and you may find that the world rises up to welcome you into the fold of the wholehearted.  I’ll meet you there.  I'll be the one with the camera...

“Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” 

                                                                                                                                                  ― Brené Brown

We all need a little sunshine...

Is it just me, or has this winter been particularly challenging for the body and the spirit?  The combination of frigid, stormy winter weather and a sloth-like lethargy have leveled me this year.  So many factors have aligned, creating a “perfect storm” that’s got me dragging myself through my days, hoping for the warming sun of early spring to show up soon and redeem me.  Mainers have, indeed, earned their reputation as stalwart, hearty folk for wintering here year upon year.

Starting my work day in the dark....and then finishing it in the dark has left me feeling like all I do is crawl out of bed and crawl back into bed, day after day for six or eight weeks on end.  It’s hard to muster any enthusiasm for an after work walk with my dogs when I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, my teeth are chattering and the sidewalks are ice-covered.

It’s also unfortunate that the “busy time” at my chosen yoga studio is always in January/February.  Everyone is seeking refuge from the cold and trying to keep their New Year’s fitness resolutions, while clogging, stinking and sweating up my personal space.  Top that off with a Groupon offering by my studio for cheap classes last month, and it’s been hard to find a parking spot for my car in the lot much less a two-foot-by-six-foot space for my mat in the practice room.  On the one hand, going to yoga represents the opportunity to be around people (instead of dogs) and to move my body.  On the other hand, my bed is so much more inviting when I’m chilled to the bone from working outside all day.....even if it IS 6:00 p.m.

And then there’s food.  Let’s face it:  I don’t know a single person for whom food does not represent comfort.  Who wants to go to yoga when there’s a crock pot of lentil stew simmering in the kitchen after a day spent outside picking up dog poop and freezing your ass?  There seems to be no end to my cravings for comfort food lately.  Pasta and cheese and bread and mashed potatoes and...well...you get the picture.  I even baked cookies this week.  I want it ALL and then I want to roll into my warm bed and hibernate, with a fistful of cookies to munch until sweet slumber overtakes me.

Winter is, of course, a time for turning inward....hibernating or cocooning while awaiting spring’s rebirth, both in nature and within our own hearts.  Bears do it.  Caterpillars do it.  Why not me?  For so many years, I’ve been so good...running miles and miles in subzero weather, putting in dozens of classes in the hot yoga room during those frozen winter months.  This year, I’ve just lost my verve somehow.  I find it hard to recall how it was I got myself to don all those layers and hit the road....or take off all those layers and hit the mat.  

The thing that’s gotten me through these long, dark weeks has been my photography and for that I’m ever grateful.  Scrolling through years worth of images of glorious spring and summer hikes, sailing trips and sunny vacations has provided hope of warmer, longer days.  March is upon us now, and the birds are appearing and singing in the trees on some balmier late mornings and early afternoons.  A big group of European Starlings descended on my bird feeders last week and pecked and munched heartily while four fat Robins watched and waited their turn from the high, bare branches of a birch tree.  In the early mornings, a Cardinal couple has been staking out their territory in a neighboring yard, the male’s shiny coat studding an otherwise drab landscape with a brilliant dot of cherry while he calls out from the highest branch of an evergreen.

These harbingers of spring have drawn me out of my cocoon and back into the world a bit.  Ideas for creative projects are sprouting inside me and enthusiasm for a return to my athletic life is building.  And these dark, quiet times have given me ample opportunity to dwell on the possibility of change in some key areas of my life.  Painful and long as these winter days have been at times, we all know that pain and darkness pave the way toward change.  Perhaps it’s a good thing that we Mainers have this annual time of drawing inward and retreating from the cold for a while.  A slower pace and a more contemplative, broody mood might actually be healthy for the soul and the spirit, offering the chance to think things through, germinate a few seeds and prepare for the next season of weather and of life as well.  In any event, here we are just a few short weeks from spring.  We’ve almost made it through the dark.  My spirit feels ready for some thawing and the warmth of a strong sun.  And don’t we all need a little sunshine?  I hear it's coming on Saturday...all day. I'll be out there, drinking it in.