This has been a perennial concern of mine for many years, and doubtless it will continue for many more. I have realized that many people harbor an intense fear of appearing vulnerable. To even look at this word conjures images of perceived weakness, Darwinist montages of small animals succumbing to genetic impurities which allow the strong to consume and destroy them. Vulnerability is a state of existence to be taken advantage of, and when growing up, we are told not to wear emotions openly so that life's cruelties will not trample them underfoot. Vulnerability is dangerous to the ego, and if there is any attribute almost unique to humans, it is that we love this concept of self so deeply and adamantly that we will lay waste to any individual who attempts to compromise its sanctity. To be vulnerable is shameful. Over time, people have discovered the switches that turn off the ability to be attuned to others, because the burden of cultivating the ego is great; most cannot afford to shoulder the weight of those emotions which naturally occur among us anyway. This is abetted by a current society which promotes empty social entanglement reeking of insincerity, of insecurity. The wearing of masks is encouraged faultlessly.
Personally, I do not have the time and energy for such an endless masquerade ball, but I recognize that I too have donned disguises in the past. Lately I have been analyzing the personal journal of Dag Hammarskjold, a man much beloved for his tenure as Secretary General of the United Nations but who also struggled titanically with inner demons, many regarding the face he should present to the world. I wish to share a eloquently written excerpt from his Markings to highlight the damage that is done through foregoing vulnerability for social acceptance:
"Jabbering away about this or that, slouching along the bypaths of gossip, unjust to himself and to others. The great thing is to charm - in order to possess, at least for the moment, a person whose feelings he doesn't dare to test by revealing is own. Better, though, this humiliating role of the clown than to be shunned as a bore - or as contemptible because of an infatuation which meets no response."
He continues:
"The feeling of shame over the previous day when consciousness again emerges from the ocean of the night. How dreadful must the contrast have been between the daily life and the living waters to make the verdict one of high treason. It is not the repeated mistakes, the long succession of petty betrayals - though, God knows, they would give cause enough for anxiety and self-contempt - but the huge, elementary mistake, the betrayal of that which is greater than I - in a complacent adjustment to alien demands." - Dag Hammarskjold
"'To be sociable'-to talk merely because convention forbids silence, to rub against one another in order to create the illusion of intimacy and contact: what an example of la condition humaine. Exhausting, naturally, like an improper use of our spiritual resources. In miniature, one of the many ways in which mankind successfully acts as its own scourge-in the hell of spiritual death." - Dag Hammarskjold
But where better to see the most extreme exchanges enacted than in a bar? Be it my favorite East Village dive or a suburban tavern, it is a given that I will notice that one person drinking above and beyond in order to drive the fun among his friends a little further - sometimes I have been that guy. But for what purpose? So that I can force a few smiles and believe momentarily that my entertainment made some important impact? The hangover the following morning is more than a physical pain: it is the throbbing emotional reminder that something of myself has suffered. There is no enrichment, only shame. Few moments compare to the feelings of loneliness and isolation from my world experienced in those first minutes of waking up.
Years of reflection have taught me that it is counter-intuitive to live this way, that it takes great courage to desire vulnerability; and so great efforts were made to combat my own intense fear to open my heart and stand naked in my sincerity. Had I seen Hammarskjold's words then, I would have actively strove to prove that "keeping it real" would actually deliver admirable results in opening up others. In retrospect, the preponderance of results speak to the incredible difficulty of such a task. A simple yet prominent example that comes to mind is an occasion where, when asked by a friend how I was doing, I replied that at the time I was experiencing some doubt about my direction in life. The response received was laconic - "oh, that sucks" - ending the matter without further discussion. More troubling was comprehending my friend's face registered neither empathy nor interest, as though he did not intend for an answer of substance beyond "I'm good". Repeated instances of voicing deeper thoughts and expressions procured similar responses, if not requests to "lighten up" or "get out of your head". The effects are hard to process when dealt by strangers, surely, but imagine the bitter disillusionment knowing that your chosen associates keep themselves at a certain distance. No wonder that when we find that particular friend or lover that instantly "clicks", embracing your vulnerability and sharing their own, we cling so tightly that our companion is practically suffocated. And should this one day fail - that is to say, circumstance intervenes to force both onto separate, solitary paths - the traces of a vicious cycle begins to appear. Those who gave their hearts vacillate between hiding the pains away and reluctantly giving themselves once more until a breaking point is reached. A day comes when the veil of the world is dropped and we are believed to be alone and doubtful of our meaning. The tougher souls might give up the struggle by sealing off the heart in a stone sarcophagus permanently to join the rest of humanity. Those which are more gentle and sensitive are completely overwhelmed, diving deeply into depressive states and even suicide.
In fact, I am led to wonder in the wake of a coworker's unexpected suicide if he had stumbled across this realization. What perceptions of his surroundings pushed him to make such an irreversible decision, regardless of those demons plaguing him? Based on knowledge of incidents surrounding his last night on earth, I believe that he laid bare what was on his mind to another coworker, but was rebuffed, taken to be insincere. This inaction rightfully stakes a claim to being the most unjustifiable choice during this series of events, for even the most maimed individual can reevaluate his meaning and worth if it is only reflected in another. Empathy, which fits finger-in-glove with vulnerability, sorely lacked that evening. Death is unusual in that it appears to accomplish the rare task of demolishing our internal defenses and exposing us to the grief of others. Suddenly everyone seeks a shoulder to cry on, to bury their woes in the casket along with the recently departed. With suicide as the precipitating factor, there are the additional promises sworn in the name of revenants and countless gods that no longer will acting hard-hearted and cruel figure into daily lives. Future suicides of the world, take heed of these newborn guardian angels leaving the cemeteries and crematoriums in legions to deliver you from pain.
The vital lesson is missed, however. Nastiness and cruelty are unforgivable, yes, but there is more to the decision to forfeit an irreplaceable, unique life. Many more will slit, hang, drown, overdose - not entirely because their problems are insurmountable by their own weakness and vulnerability, but because of the recognition that the world is largely indifferent, that humanity lumbers forward whether or not we are invited to join. Promises made graveside are forgotten sooner than one thinks, and old habits become commonplace once more. The lesson is not that these unfortunate souls are lacking, but it is we who are impoverished. Our souls, by locking others outside of our lives, are made to suffer and deteriorate as we lose the memory of what it is like to experience joy, despair, or any unadultered emotion as it was meant to be encountered, without filter, without shame.
"Do you really have 'feelings' any longer for anybody or anything except yourself - or even that? Without the strength of a personal commitment, your experience of others is at most aesthetic. Yet today, even such a maimed experience brought you into touch with a portion of spiritual reality which revealed your utter poverty." -Dag Hammarskjold
(I intend to continue this conversation in a subsequent post. A quick smattering of media pertaining to vulnerability: TedTalk on Vulnerability and Shame - http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame; Dag Hammarskjold's Markings, Pink Floyd's The Wall).
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