Daring Greatly// Wrapping up So what now? I finished reading this amazing book Daring Greatly and I’ve dedicated four months writing and illustrating these articles about vulnerability and how it has impacted me. Right now, I feel more exposed than I have ever been. I feel vulnerable. I’ve poured my heart and passion in this project and I hope people felt it. I’ve also been scared a few times... What will people think? What will my family think? What about these friends having no idea about “this particular thing” regarding me? What about “my clients”? Have I gone too far in sharing these personal issues with the world? What if this whole thing is a flop? What if in the end people say “Uh-uh, yeah, that was interesting” and then move on to the next thing? What if there’s no follow-up? Is this what Brené Brown calls “a vulnerability hangover”? On the flip side, I also feel more humbled and grateful than ever. This project has led to numerous interesting and meaningful discussions with people in my direct and indirect community, which is all I was hoping for. I’ve also been encouraged by some very positive feedback I got. When people said they were touched, or empathised with, or felt the same feelings, or said they were wrestling with the same issues. I felt less lonely. More known for who I am really. I felt connections. And I hope you did too. This project has been a way of testing the waters. Was it ok to be “me”? Seems like it was. Feels like it was all right to share these words and the world didn’t stop spinning, did it? Now that’s a relief. So what now? Well, it seems like the adventure is only starting. Vulnerability is not only an interesting concept I wanted to study, it’s a lifestyle I fully want to adopt for the rest of my life. When I practice it I see good fruits. Whether in my relationships, in how I relate with people or in difficult situations, vulnerability was the best choice. I also saw fruits in my art. I do want to be more courageous. More honest. More bold and more colourful. In the words of Rick Blaine at the end of classic movie Casablanca: ”My friends, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Brown has a pretty terrific “Wholehearted Parenting Manifesto” that you can download from her website! Here’s a taste: “Above all else, I want you to know that you are loved and are lovable. You will learn this from my words and actions - the lessons on love are how I treat you and how I treat myself” and “I will not teach or love or show you anything perfectly, but I will let you see me, and I will always hold sacred the gift of seeing you. Truly, deeply, seeing you.” Gulp. That’s good stuff!

A portrait of Brené Brown

Daring Greatly // Things Could Go Terribly... Right! // Feat. Andy J. Pizza What hit me hardest in this chapter was the idea that in a work or school culture where shame is prevalent, people are afraid of sharing new ideas. Students or employees don't feel like it's worth it to share novel thoughts that may not be full proof or fully formed for fear of ridicule and humiliation. It's such a tragedy really. I believe that ideas precede everything. Philosophy birthed the idea that everything is made up of tiny atoms ages before it could be tested with science. Not to mention the countless times that ideas in science fiction sparked the imaginations of scientists and innovators who make the impossible a reality. It reminds me of my journey as a father. I was too young to understand fear when we had my first kid. But I often say that the birth of my daughter was also the birth of fear in my life. It just got real on another level that day. After that, talks of more children were always dripping in anxiety for me. What if we tried to bring this new thing into the world, and something TERRIBLE happened? Ultimately, we decided that the possibility of the opposite happening was worth the leap. We decided to ask this instead: what if we brought this new thing into the world and something INCREDIBLE happened? So we did, two more times! I thank God everyday for these three "risks" and nothing can compare to the depth of the joy their existence has brought me. In smaller ways, I try to remember this when I'm on the verge of diving into something new and risky in my creative journey. Yeah, maybe things could go terribly wrong... but they could go incredibly right too! Hope this acts as an encouragement to you and me to keep trying to say yes to the vulnerability of adventure!

If you’re at all familiar with the Karpman drama triangle (google it, it’s amazing!), just know it’s a social model of human interaction mapping a type of destructive interactions that can occur between people (it’s a tool used in psychotherapy). There are three behaviours: the victim, the rescuer and the persecutor. I won’t go into details but I fall into the category of “The Rescuer”. I’m the one, without you asking, that will suggest to “help you”. But I’m not helping because I want to, I do it out of guilt. And the “wounded person” can feel it. Believe me, it’s unhealthy. So imagine how I feel when someone's sharing their difficulties with me ? I just want to flippin’ act on it. My first reaction would be to show “the bright side of things”. Or worst, I’d try to get rid of the discomfort by finding a quick fix. But we know this is not what we really need. When there’s pain involved we don’t need a quick band-aid. We need compassion. Brené Brown quotes Pema Chodron here: "Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals. Only when we know our darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity”. Compassion and empathy go hand in hand. It allows us to connect with each other. Brené Brown said : “In order to connect with the wounded I have to make myself vulnerable and connect with something within me that knows that pain”. She goes on : “Empathy sounds a bit like “Hey I know what it’s like and you’re not alone”. How powerful. In seemingly doing “nothing” but silently sit in the darkness with the wounded I know we are bonding and that's all we need. No massive rescuing plan. No clever answer. Just connection. And that makes all the difference. BOOM!

Daring Greatly // Fitting in VS Belonging (11/12) This topic is one that’s close to my heart as fitting in and belonging has always been a lifelong struggle of mine. I want to belong somewhere so bad, but I’ve spent so much time trying to fit in. Whether at home, in school, in church or in a group of friends, I had nothing else but me to offer, but all I felt like I had to do was to fit in. Talk the talk. Act the act. Adapt. Meanwhile, I ended up losing my true colours and started adopting others’. I remember when I was in high school. I wasn’t part of the cool kids (yes the sporty ones) nor was I part of the black sheep. I was in between. I was no one and everyone. Never completely part of one group but also never completely marginalised (probably because I’m a social guy - you see, I learned to act). I used to say I was a chameleon. Which means that even surrounded with “friends” I felt lonely. Very few people knew me for real, and those who did I truly cherished their friendship. Unfortunately, unaware, as adults we end up behaving like the kids we used to be. Only with a smart car and a beard. I sure did (minus the beard). Until not so long ago, I carried on wearing - what I thought were - “the right colours”. So I could fit in of course! But I got sick and tired of it. You can’t forever wear a costume that’s not yours. At some point it starts to stink. People change. So do I. And actually, even if the process was sometimes tricky there was real joy to find in changing and allowing myself to “just be me”. First I felt more in tune with my inner self. And second I ended up finding those who enjoy my presence for nothing else but the pure joy of companionship. No agendas. No mission to accomplish. No points to win. No set of values to subscribe to in order to be “in”. We enjoy each other's company just for who we are, with the good and the bad. In doing so, I felt like I belonged. With them. And I believe this is what “loving your neighbour as yourself” really means. You don’t ask him to fit in. You make him feel welcome.

As an active gap minder, I endeavor minding the gap at a family scale with my uninhibited four year old son. He doesn’t mind the gap… simply because there is no gap for him. He lives and breathes the moment. You remember? He’s like a mirror to me. Each day with him brings an opportunity to learn something new, something different forcing me to “MTG”. By extension, at a community level with my team-mates, nurturing my kind-of-unaware-peers to embrace vulnerability as a dynamic gathering power has become an effective pattern. Achieving goals together has become easier and less stressful. At a livelihood level, lastly, minding the gap has become henceforth my primary step : what achievements can I pledge to, what outcome can I reach while aligning to my values, how much time do I have to accomplish my artwork. MTG as a motto.

So how can I change ? By sitting on the same side of the table babe ! This has been a massive shift in my mind. I’d never seen it that way. We are on the same team! It means that when facing an issue, if I am willing to make myself vulnerable, instead of blaming it all ON you, I am willing to handle it WITH you. You are not the only one responsible. We are. And if we care enough for each other then we can get through this. We are going to take ownership and we are going to work on it. Yes, feedback is needed. Yes, sometimes hard things need to be discussed. But I’d rather do it by being encouraging and working together rather than against each other.

Reading this chapter was a bit hard for me. Brené Brown’s examples are a lot about parenting, so it took me straight back to my upbringing. And of course, like any family, I’ve noticed some of these “gaps”. The values my parents held in high regard didn't always reflect the way we experienced it in reality. “Do what I say, not what I do” would be a good illustration. It’s a weird and uncomfortable thing to notice. Usually, my operating system is the following : notice a recurring problem, make an analysis, try to fix it. Sounds pretty normal doesn’t it ? I love solving problems. I love to save the day and pretend like I’m the one who’s figured out all of my family’s issues. But in this case, the temptation would be too easy to point the finger to my elders. I don’t want to blame them for it. We all do this.  They did their best and I’m grateful for it. I don’t want these difficult observations to be a dead end. I want an open end. For now, I think the real questions I’ve got to ask myself are : how do I take responsibility in this ? What’s my part ? How do I sit - not in front of my parents - but alongside them, so we together can change our family culture for the best ? And even more so, how do I close my own gaps ?

Beware of the sensitive viking.

Of course there is no quick solution to this. It's highly unlikely that a vulnerable man will become acceptable anytime soon. Don't get me wrong there are a ton of examples of incredible groups of people supporting each other without question. I think it's fair to say we would be in a very different place if as a society If men could drop the act and just say how they really feel.

I’ve spent most of my life as a viking. Of course, there’s a million reasons why I’ve been wired this way and everybody has their own story, grounded in their upbringing. As for me, I had to succeed. At any cost. I’ve discovered lately that I - indeed - have a tendency to impose myself. Especially with my siblings. As the elder of three brothers, I always wanted to own the space and be the centre of attention. And then there’s perfectionism. I had to do everything I could to pretend I was the perfect son. Even if that meant putting my brothers down. When I think about it, I hate myself for behaving that way. But becoming aware of this is the beginning towards change. When I lay down my sword I feel more vulnerable, and that's when I begin to relate and connect better with the world around me. I know I still have a long way to go, but hey, I’m working on it!

Perfectionism is a poison and a lie I’ve fed myself with for too long. It’s one that pretends that if I try to do things perfectly, then I am beyond blame. If I follow the rules to the letter, then you can’t judge me. If I believe the right things, then I’m in the right camp. Only If I have it all together, have I something valuable to say. Only if I’m a trying my best, am I worthy of your love. Guess what, this is a never-ending game, and a vicious one. For too long I have tried to live by the rules. There are a million reasons why I’ve adopted this attitude since my childhood but I can’t carry on this way. I know that I will never be perfect. I know I need grace. So why pretend that I have it all together ? I don’t. In her book, Brené Brown wrote “With that sense of “being enough” comes an embrace of worthiness, boundaries, and engagement.” I will no longer wait to know everything perfectly before allowing myself to say something and be seen. I know I am flawed, limited and young but this doesn’t mean I have no value to offer. I don’t want to play the part, I want to play my part. So here I am, imperfect.

Or should I ? Thinking about it, no one in my actual church has ever rejected me for being who I am. Quite the opposite, I’ve been welcomed with open arms and been heard with attention and respect. This faith-based family has been a loving one to me. And when experiencing a crisis, I’ve been able to openly talk about it and be heard. No one is forcing me to fit in a box. Meaning there’s no need to unplug. This is resilience.

It's my great pleasure to introduce to you my first guest on my DARING GREATLY project. Ladies and gentlemen, she's called Erin Barker and she's one crazy talented lady ! We met during Andy J Miller's MFBA class ! I've asked Erin to read chapter 3 of Brené Brown's book. She then wrote a short piece of what she learned and then illustrated it in her own unique way. I hope you will resonate with her. And btw, go follow her on Instagram @hooraylorraine and like her Facebook page Erin Barker Illustration, her illustration work is beautiful !⠀ Daring Greatly // The Shame Tape // Feat. Erin Barker⠀ ⠀ It's really easy to attach my self-worth to the work I create. No matter what happens, whether my work is accepted or not, I get trapped in the jaws of shame. If people see it as "bad", I see myself as worthless. If it's seen as "good", I'm imprisoned by what others think, a slave to people-pleasing.⠀ ⠀ Then those words I hear from others play over and over in my head, messages of self-doubt and self-criticism, and I become crippled by my own thoughts. "Shame started as a two-person experience, but as I got older I learned to do shame all by myself." - Robert Hilliker⠀  ⠀ One of the keys to combating shame is recognizing it within yourself and what triggers it. Talking about the things that bring you shame and shedding light on them is crucial. I'm ashamed of my inability to focus and stay mentally present in my day to day life, especially when it comes to my creative work. I'm ashamed of my weight and how I'm not making enough money and what if my friends don't really like me etc etc, the list goes on. ⠀ But being transparent with my shame is the only way to overcome it. I'm taking steps toward that, and hoping to move toward a healthier place where shame doesn't have as much control of my life.

Daring Greatly // Shame’s the quietest bitch you’ll ever meet (5/12) A few years ago, I encountered my biggest shame-related experience. I experienced a time of depression.It lasted 6 months. To my memory, this was the worst period of my life. Even today, it’s kind of difficult for me to write about it.As this is not the right place for it, I’m not going to write in details, but here are a few things everyone can relate to : I felt lonely. I was anguished. My mind was constantly accusing me. I knew these thoughts were lies but I couldn’t stop them. I was ashamed of experiencing this. I didn’t know at the time it was shame but I knew I shouldn’t believe these lies. It was a constant fight with little rest. I was losing weight. I had insomnia. And I was confused. I needed to understand what happened to me but there was no rational explanation. It just happened. I think this feeling of helplessness was the worst. I didn’t knew what to do and very few people knew how to help me. Of course I mentioned I wasn’t feeling great and I was having insomnia. But the real reasons of this depression were too much to handle I thought. How could they understand ? If I told them they would definitely think I was crazy. I thought I was flawed, that I was losing my sanity. I was so ashamed and felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. A few years later, all of this was just a horrible memory. I was feeling better. But at the moment I was least expecting it, some symptoms started creeping back in. Those lies in my head again. But at this point, there was no way I was going to stand there with my arms crossed. I needed help. I didn’t want depression to drag me down again. So against all odds, I started to see a therapist. I needed to understand what happened and why it was potentially happening again. At first I was terrified, but to live a freer life I had to look my demons in the eyes and speak to them. As soon as I started to put words to my story, shame began to wither. From there, reconstruction started to be possible and thankfully I haven't had any symptoms of depression since. It was one of the best decisions I made, and for this, I am forever grateful.