The topic for the munch this month is vulnerability. It is a word I’ve considered frequently in the last 2 months. It is obviously a word in my lexicon, I have many words there. What I do not have is a lengthy history of being vulnerable with others.

During one of my crying mornings at the summer house I actually said aloud, I’ve been through some shit.

That shouldn’t be a surprise to you constant reader. It was a surprise to me because that declaration didn’t come with my standard, I have the right to feel this way look at what’s happened. In hindsight its not a true surprise, after all how I respond to that particular person is different than how I respond to most, but my go-to response is when you’ve been through the shit I’ve been through, Ive got the right to feel what I feel in that moment.

And I do. I have the right. That right doesn’t come without penalty though. The cost to me as a person is that it slows progress, it feeds fear, it delays happiness. If I am serious about this transformation, it is one of those things I am going to have to let go. My plans are quite ambitious. I can see a version of me in six months that many won’t recognize. I’m okay with that because some of you who are looking at me now I need to have my cloaking device on so that I can walk on by.

I can hear her voice now telling me how simple it is, and although it doesn’t feel as simple as she makes it sound and look, its also not as hard as I tend to make some things.

I can recall an argument I had with the roomie, she called me miserable. That stung to hear from her, and it was easy to dismiss it. She was speaking from anger. Truth told, I don’t recall what started the argument. It was easy to ignore her though, because I know her. I clapped back with my own observation that she was not as ‘happy’ as she pretended to be. That her inability to be flexible didn’t make me miserable, it made my path one she could not walk.

On my last trip as I had to take my lumps over something I absolutely fucked up, she – the force of nature I think of as mom – pondered aloud if my existence was miserable.

Two people six months or so apart came to the same conclusion. One because she thought in the moment it would injure me, the other because speaks with love. So I’ve asked myself am I truly miserable? The genuine answer is no. The also genuine response is I am not covered in joy.

I know someone else on the path to joy right now, and I understand its a part of why I am drawn to her in the fashion I am. The same way the universe plopped me down at the summer house, it put this other person in my space as well.

One of the things I understand about happiness is that it will take me allowing myself to be vulnerable. I have to start with myself though. It is shared space and time, and consistent expose which gives vulnerability the chance to root. Instead of asking myself do I have those people in my life [the answer is I do] I am figuring out how to first be vulnerable with me. It all starts here. Mom said its easy. I suppose the very least that I can do is not make it hard.

Aphrodite Brown