I rarely publish kind of thing, but I'm imagining this might help someone, and that sharing it might help me too. I'm totally convinced that to be vulnerable with others also on the path to spiritual and emotional maturity, and to figure out the balance between serving the common good and being supported in our own needs is one of the necessary frontiers in human evolution. So I'm going to be vulnerable here.
I'm also totally convinced that the transformation of our society from one that champions stories of separation and scapegoating into one that celebrates connection and interdependent responsibility, and the exchange of stories of scarcity, judgement and struggle for abundance, acceptance, and ease will depend largely on how willing we are to ask for help. To be vulnerable with others - especially when it feels like weakness to do so.
What stops us from being vulnerable is involuntary isolation - an unresolved sense of self amidst others, uncertain where the boundaries between my life and your life, my needs and your needs, what is "respectable" and expected of human beings. I think many of us end up in one of two places - either our deepest needs are hidden from others because we don't tell them, or we are so wounded that we find it difficult to tell the difference between a deep need or a bumpy day, a terrible mistake or when we take on responsibility that does not legitimately belong to us.
Involuntary isolation has lots of causes, but shame is often high among them - frequently manifesting as feeling too embarrassed to ask for what we really need (often what we need is as simple as someone else acknowledging our need), and to truly allow someone (or someones) else to help carry us.
Our shared culture has indoctrinated many of us in the story that we should "chin up", not bother others with our problems, "stand on our own two feet". There's certainly wisdom in discerning healthy boundaries between my needs and yours, and in learning to know ourselves well enough to regulate our own anxiety.
But we weren't made for isolation, and we can't meet our needs by ourselves.
The past couple of weeks, for me, have included some of the most acute emotional pain I've known. The data isn't as important as the impact of the experience - it's just a life-long challenging personal situation that I'm not going to say any more about here, partly because it is no more important than whatever may be burdening you at this moment. Don't worry - it's just that a long-term source of personal suffering has come closer than I've known in a good long while. I'm being well supported, and despite the pain of it, in the deepest sense all is well.
These weeks have also been among the most exciting - my new book, a labor of love, is coming out soon and folk are supporting it; some other meaningful vocational things are unfolding too. And most of all, in the midst of the painful circumstances, the people closest to me are showing up in the most fierce and tender ways. I cannot overstate how much it means to me to be loved and cared for in this way - thank you. You know who you are.
So my reason for posting this here is to acknowledge that I'm grateful, and that I want to follow what the wonderful Jim Finley says: "When I feel the suffering coming on, I think of all the other people suffering in the world, and I unite my suffering with theirs." I imagine how I might be of service to them, even if only offering a hand to help each other take one step across a river that seems to run between our wounded hearts and our longed-for peace.
If you're experiencing any kind of involuntary isolation at the moment, I encourage you to reach out and tell someone that you need connection. There is no legitimate reason to feel shame for asking for help. There is no legitimate reason to feel shame for feeling shame! And there is no legitimate reason to feel shame for feeling shame for feeling shame! We all need a little help, most of the time, and a lot of help, some of the time. We live in a world that sometimes acknowledges this, but usually doesn't act like it believes it.
I know many of us want to help nurture communities in which we share in the circle of helping-and-being-helped as a natural part of our everyday lives*. That we would know who we can rely on, and become more reliable ourselves, as a default mode of being human. That none of us would ever suffer in silence, or be without clarity about who and how to ask for help. It's not rocket science - all it takes is for someone to go first.
Gareth Higgins is the founder and co-editor of The Porch
