curiosity and condemnation.

Life teaches us that relationships are about power. We learn this from a young age. Popularity has more to do with confidence than looks, though one can certainly influence the other.

Unfortunately, sometimes this confidence is bought by subtracting rather than adding. The world is full of those who gain esteem by lowering others, those who come into power because they are good at playing the game. Their comfort is directly correlated to the discomfort of the person they are with, their power gained from the powerlessness of those around them.

Personally, I don't believe that people set out to be cruel. Bullying, subtle or obvious, is a trait inherited in insecurity and confirmed by experience: we want the power because the power keeps us safe. Vulnerability is an intensely uncomfortable emotion and we will do anything to avoid it. Brené Brown's research on this topic was, not surprisingly, groundbreaking simply because she touched on something that so many of us feel and fear. Her work shows us over and over that vulnerability is a part of courage, not a sign of weakness.

But it doesn't come easily.

A fellow therapist and I were recently talking about relationships, and how often the discomfort we feel lends to premature self-destruction. Unanswered questions or feelings of powerlessness prompt us to force answers that cause us to decompose rather than advance. She said that when she feels this uneasiness she tries to look at the problem before her with curiosity rather than certainty, and asks herself a question:

Is the path to knowing dysfunctional?

Will stirring up a whirlwind of anxiety ridden questions rooted in control really get me the true answer I'm looking for? Is this something that can be solved overnight? Is gaining power in this situation actually harming myself and those around me?

Sometimes our impatience in vulnerability leads us to do things we are not proud of and almost always regret. Whether this is actively making someone feel bad or giving up in despair, the path to knowing in this way can only serve to isolate us even more. We gain a power that seems secure but is shallow, easily uprooted or stubbornly impassive. Both threaten our sense of belonging and wholeness.

I am learning that I must lean into the discomfort in both myself and others in order to unveil that which needs nurturing, that which needs pruning and a tender hand. When we choose condemnation over curiosity, we automatically shut a door that may have brought us light. When we aren't open to the process and just want the product, we miss out on the challenges that we need to grow into the people we are becoming.

I want to choose the path that is uncertain, insecure and vulnerable because it is only by being aware of and listening to these pieces of my being that I can properly heal. When I rush to cover up or scramble for power and control, I am laying the ground for dysfunction to take root and slowly poison my soul.

When we pass judgement on others, we pass judgement on ourselves.

And when we gain a sense of security from the insecurity of others, we dishonor our humanness and take away from that which allows us to connect.

And connection always breeds compassion.

We must be able to tolerate unpleasant emotions if we want to be whole. We must be willing to lower ourselves to the uneasiness of others, to meet them in their self-consciousness because we too, understand it. Because we too, are insecure, questioning our place and longing to be seen.

Is the path to knowing dysfunctional?

Can you tolerate the not knowing?

Can you be open to the process that will undoubtedly ask you to be vulnerable, and to connect to the vulnerability of others?

Can you choose curiosity over condemnation?

Because just one of those options leaves the possibility for more.

More life. More hope. More healing.

More love.

Be open to the process, no matter how difficult it may be.

Let your heart be rooted in kindness, not control.

It's the only way you'll grow.