Years ago I took a class on body language communication from a world renowned mime. I paraded around a room full of participants, and he would tap a person to freeze them. We would all then view that person as a piece of art…sculpted perfection. We would look at the softness of their hair, the expression in their wrinkles, the glint captured in the glass of their eye, the tension held in their suspended movement, their chest and breathing open or protected by the posture of their arms, their vulnerability exhibited.
If you look at any person, you can see all the things they are not divulging with words. You can see secrets they haven’t yet told themselves. The language of the body is very vulnerable. It says everything even when it is protecting itself from mortal attack.
I believe very deeply in presenting my most vulnerable self to people, specifically as it relates to partners in love. Vulnerability free and cared for is a high like no other, and vulnerability in the face of fear and trial is a low that is equal in intensity.
For the first time in my life, I want to shell up like a turtle and lay in the middle of the road waiting for the end. Where is my energy to play “Frogger” with a frenzy and time my crossing of dangers with accuracy?
When did fear take over?
It happened when I fell in love.
When all is right with us, I can do anything. When we shake, I see nothing but movement in even the most static of realities. I experience motion sickness as everything rocks. I look at the world as if infinite chaos. The vulnerability is extreme, but the opportunity is present as well.
What does it feel like to trust someone with your complete, vulnerable tenderness and have it cared for? What risks would you take to experience that? Does sacrifice or compromise feel like harsh payments when the goal is mirrored, loving, fully expressed SAFETY in vulnerability?
I want to turtle…I do.
But I will not. The shell slows me down and makes me shit at agility. Shed the shell. Remove the layers of safety that are not really safe anyway, and I run for it. NAKED. Vulnerable. Free to choose life of open, expressive, love…
Please, let me make it to the other side.
What happens when I get to the other side, and we decide it is all wrong? We hold each other, we care for the vulnerability, we heal, and then we do whatever comes next. We have learned, and we have loved, and vulnerability is still worth while.