Daring Greatly

Daring Greatly is a book about having the courage to be vulnerable in a world where everyone wants to appear strong, confident and like they know what they’re doing.

First, Brené makes two core points about vulnerability.

Vulnerability isn’t good or bad. It’s not a black and white subject. It’s just a part of life and if you experience it, it means you’re able to feel things. Allowing yourself to actually be vulnerable is a sign of strength and courage. It’s a lot easier to avoid the things that might make you vulnerable, rather than lean into them. But that also means we’re missing out on a lot of good things.

For example, if you’ve ever loved someone you know that being in love makes you very vulnerable. You allow someone into your heart and give them incredible power, which includes the power to hurt you. But only if you accept this state of vulnerability do you have a shot at all the love, joy and kindness you might experience from that relationship. This means vulnerability isn’t just the source of pain and grief, but also the root of many positive emotions.

Note: I’m getting coffee with a girl I haven’t really seen in six years today. I was in love with her in high school and it scares the shit out of me to see her again. But if I don’t go I’ll never know why, so my best bet is to go there, be vulnerable, show myself and see what’s to come.

Second, you could hide from the things that make you vulnerable. The responsibility for a project at work. The girl or guy you haven’t seen in forever. The art you want to create. But you know that’s a cop out. Leaning into vulnerability is something only the strong, the truly courageous can do.

What’s worse than completely bombing a speaking gig? Being ashamed about bombing a speaking gig and never doing one again. There’s a quote that goes “Failure is temporary, giving up is what makes it permanent.” Shame is what makes you give up. “I’m ashamed that I wasn’t there for my son when he was little.” “I’m ashamed I didn’t try harder at being a good wedding planner.” “I’m ashamed at work, because my co-workers talk about me behind my back.” Have you thought any of these? Or other variations? I bet you have. But have you said them? Try it. I just did this morning. There’s a certain level of ridicule to be found in every single shame you express. Pinpointing what actually makes you feel ashamed and saying it out loud takes a lot of power from shame. Nobody wants to talk…