Because of the need to protect the privacy of the person concerned, I probably won’t publish this piece anywhere else so it means even more to share these insights here.

Last week I wrote about a peak experience I had when a dear friend abroad gave me a one-to-one journalling party as a belated birthday present. 

The party lasted an hour and resulted in a heightened, productive state all that day. I believe because of the power of natural alignment.

This week, life has provided a perfect illumination of the other side of the coin: what happens when you experience coercion (in the name of friendship) to do something that hurts your state of being.

You gotta love life and its soul training.

Most of my allies are geographically far from where I live and so the few friends I have locally (in a new to me area) are very precious to my heart and wellbeing. 

Of them, one is especially kind, for example she invited me into the bubble with her husband when I couldn't see anyone else during lockdown. (I live alone).

Only a few days after my peak friendship experience (mentioned above), I’m travelling in the car with the local friend. Let’s call her Bee. 

It’s recently been Bee’s birthday and I showed up with a card, a plant and a pile of gifts, joining her and hubby for a celebratory dinner out. 

Then she decided to throw a joint party with another woman of a close-by birthday and I got an email invite to the community hall.

I froze for a few days, wondering how to say no. The invite was my worst nightmare. For a sensitive introvert, mingling with people I don’t know, without structure or a role and in a community with a new bout of covid infections is as bad as it gets (human-contact-wise).

So me and Bee are in the car and she asks if she should take it I won’t be coming. 

I’m relieved I can finally address the invite and I offer, vulnerably: 

“I’m so glad you’ve asked. I didn’t know how to say this. I’m so sorry but I won’t come. The naked truth is that this kind of event registers as torture to my nervous system. Your hubby and other friend will be there so I trust you’ll have a lovely party all the same.”

To which I hear this reply: 

“I understand but it hurts my feelings that my best friend won’t be there. Surely you can come, only nice people will be there. Etc. etc.”

It was all I could do to change focus a fraction and leave soon after but I was in shock.

The next morning, I woke up with a mega sore throat and feeling like my physical body was weighing twice its normal weight. 

I was lucky because my regular emotional wellbeing group was on in the morning.  

Sore throat, according to Louise Hay, relates to holding in angry words and feeling unable to express the self.

I told my group witnesses that my reaction to what had happened didn’t bring up anger. Rather, it prompted despair in my inner alien.

That part of me just cannot understand how it’s possible for someone on this planet to declare themselves your best friend in one breath, and in the next to apply emotional coercion to get you to do what you’d just confessed would feel torturous.

Somewhere in me, this does not compute even though I CAN guess some of the needs behind my friend’s pushing.

After sharing my feelings in the safe group, my body felt tangibly lighter, I guess unburdened, and I was back to my normal weight. 

In the afternoon, I wrote a long, careful email to extend warmth to my friend, to deliver clarity that indeed I won’t be coming and to offer friendship in some alternative ways.

Would she feel cared for if I helped her cook for her party?

If I provided a cooked dish for her to take in?

Or maybe if I came and helped her put together a lovely outfit for it?

No, she wouldn’t, the reply came. And she is “upset that you can’t come” but “don't think any more about it.”

I needed to process my dismay again.

The silver lining

The merciful thing about the sensitive constitution is that, apart from being more affected by ugliness, we are also particularly awake to beauty.

So yes, I needed a second and third round of processing but I also got fresh, valuable insights from them. About my inner parts, about life and about friendship.

I saw that what was really hurting my friend was not my truth but her misunderstanding that feelings are caused by other people.

And I also found something else I could offer in friendship: a better vision FOR friendship. 

That in friendship, it is possible (and beautifully creative) to give without sacrificing oneself.

She may or may not welcome this, only the time will tell. But I found my way back to natural alignment (with what I’m about) and for that, I'm really grateful.

Dedicated: To anyone who has ever felt like an alien on this planet and to the Angels of all types who assist them in times of despair.

This week I have been exploring the important (and somewhat difficult and scary) topics of vulnerability and asking for help.

And the question that has been the center of my exploration is:

How can you allow yourself to be truly vulnerable by not trying to do it all on your own, and allow others to contribute their genius to help you reach your goals?

When I explore something, I like to combine head and heart. 

I like to understand the deeper mening of a word or a topic while I'm getting a direct, embodied experience with it.

So, I looked at what it means to be vulnerable, what it means to be authentic and even what the genius really refers to. 

This layed the ground for my mind to grasp it, and also helped in looking at how to practice some of these things.

And I will share some of my discoveries here:

The word vulnerable comes from the Latin word ‘vulnus’ and it means ‘to carry a wound gracefully’. 

We know physically, that wounds have to be open to light and air in order to heal. If they are not they will actually fester and get worse. 

So the first part in being vulnerable, is to carry our wounds gracefully, to open our wounds so they can be open to light and warmth and love, and so have a chance to heal.

The word authentic comes from the Greek ‘autentas’ and interestingly it means ‘the mark of the hands’. So, authentic means, what starts in the heart ends up in our hands! 

That we do what we say, as which we kind of understands as integrity. 

The hands and the heart are so connected; I learned this from a physician. 

When the fetus starts forming in the womb the first thing that forms is the heart.

And the next thing, the arm starts to grow out of the heart! They are actually called ‘armbuds’ and they look like little wingtips and then they grow fully. 

Then the third thing that forms is the tongue. 

This is why, when we are passionate, we talk with our hands. And this is also why a sign of a heart attack is that we feel a pain in our arms. 

So to be authentic is to take what starts in our heart and bring it into the world. And to be vulnerable is to stay open enough so what happens to us can heal.

So let’s look for a moment at the word genius. 

When we hear the word genius we often think of Mozart or others and yes, genius has come to mean a particular brilliance or a gift, but that is not what the word originally means. 

The word originally means ‘attended spirit’. 

Everyone has a genius – whether you call it ‘inner voice’, ‘atmin’, Dharma-nature, ‘the Holy Ghost’ or whatever you call it everyone has an ‘attended spirit’. 

William Blake, the prolific poet, said: Strait is the way to improvement, but crocked is the road to genius. Crocked is the way to our attended spirit.

So in this context, we have to be willing to take the risk to be open, the risk to be authentic, and to look and be humble enough to ask for help and offer help and let others contribute with their genius.

So, life breaks us open through which our attended spirit will join all that we keep hidden and by being vulnerable it will come out and heal the world. 

And we need to have what in the East they call a beginners mind. 

So to practice being vulnerable, we need to practice opening when we are closed. 

We need to practice listening over speaking. 

And we need to practice letting things in when we’re keeping things out.

In that way, the genius in our heart can flow freely and play with other genius' in co-creating what we long for the most.

(I noticed just now that only part of my story had made it through the copy and paste process. Sigh. Here's the Whole Enchilada!)

Recently a client asked about supporting a friend whom she described as a stress-bucket taking on the weight of the world. She had a brief, upcoming visit with her and wanted to give her the self-care tools to better manage her experience.

She asked me for any shamanic tips, breathing practices, etc, that she could share.

I sat with that for two days.

In those two days, I had my own experience where I was quite out of sorts (no joke, I was really off!) and in an activated, emotional place where previously I would have gone to the Land of Drama.

Instead, I visited the Cave of Contemplation. 

After about an hour of reflection there, I phoned a friend and told her the experience I had just had. I kept it as neutral as possible, but she knows me very well, and could read between the lines.

After I was done, she asked me a very important question: “Do you want me to offer any thoughts about what happened, or did you just need to tell me about this?”

After I took a few moments, I let her know that was a great question. We have a very good habit of asking this of each other.

This time, I realized I would get more wound up if I added her input. I was feeling sensitive and would likely negatively project my own self-judgment into her assessment.

So I told her that it would be better to talk later, when I was farther away from what happened and had more room inside to process. We talk regularly, so I knew we’d get back to it soon. It was quite the learning experience for me!

The situation helped me form my answer for my client who wanted to help her frazzled friend. I wrote:

I think it's beautiful how you want to be there for your friend. Here is what I would do:

Listen.

Yup. We go to our friends for a safe space to dump and be seen and held lovingling no matter how bad our ugly cry or vituperous rage.

Listen. Bring tissue. Maybe some Bach Flowers Rescue Remedy.

Offer kind, warm, slow hugs.

There is no quick fix for a stressful, out-of-balance lifestyle. A goodie bag is good for those whose love language is gifts (like yours!). I don't know if ritual items or sweets are a part of her self-comforting routine or not. You'll know better than I will!

A brief visit has time for listening. Her cup sounds over-full. Give her precious space and time to dump.

Be sure to clear yourself after! Y'all don't wanna take on her stuff. I clear myself all the time! And, I still get some of that vibe on me.

Be gentle. Listen. It's a rare gift we give each other (or ourselves!).

Big hugs to you and your very kind heart.

If you’re my partner, I dream of being each other’s soft place to land as well as each other’s rock in times of growth and change. I cherish you because you get me in a way that nobody else does.