My Brain Made Me Do It - Vulnerability is the Key

(This is a briefer version of the March 6 Musing.)

Years ago when my eighteen year old nephew was four, he made a comment as children do that’s stayed with me over time. Having gotten into trouble for doing something to one of his older brothers he said, “It’s not my fault, Aunt Dawn. My brain made me do it.”

In retrospect I wish I had not found this so endearing but had awkwardly yet lovingly stumbled about in an attempt to help him find the best words to explain what his brain was thinking as well as help him see how his thoughts, feelings and actions were connected. That conversation might have eventually gotten us to his being mad that things weren’t fair and that he took it out on his brother because he was ultimately sad about not getting attention or scared about possibly being forgotten. Like all of us at times, I suspect his feeling vulnerable yet not knowing how to put this into words prompted him to attack and lash out. For a time or at least until he was caught, he temporarily felt better or in control while not having to experience uncomfortable feelings.

In turn I allowed my fear of saying the wrong thing (personally feeling vulnerable and not wanting to sound stupid even to a four year old) to keep me from engaging my brain and talking with him or just simply asking him to tell me more.

I’ve thought of his comment a lot recently. There’s something so valuable and rare in his honesty. Even though he was assigning blame for what he did, at least he was blaming a part of himself rather than another person or group of people as is common today.

We live in what’s called an ownership society yet we do not for the most part own the uncomfortable stuff of our insides. In fact we often do just the opposite. We project our fears onto others, disown our actions and suggest another is at fault.

How is it that we’ve gotten to a place where “It’s not my fault” has become the mantra of so many? How is it that so many can’t even find it within themselves to say like my nephew, “My brain/my desire for power/ my fear of losing power/my fear of losing money/my fear of dying/my fear of strangers, Socialists, Muslims (fill in your bad guy or fear here) made me do it”?

Months ago during a flight, I heard a young woman say she didn’t have any obligations. She was referring to her present job allowing her time and flexibility to travel to determine where she ultimately wanted to live. This prompted me to consider what are my obligations really are. I’ve bills to pay and a handful of people in my life to whom I'm to show up, but the more I thought of it the more I realized my greatest obligation is to myself, to not ignore my insides and to show up with integrity in relation to my own thoughts, feelings and actions first and foremost.

I'm reminded of the phrase from last year's elections, the phrase, man-up. Maybe these times of blame and lacking accountability hold the seeds of birthing a new sense of integrity. Maybe it's time to man-up and woman-up in order to wake up, to step up to the plate, home base within and own the stuff of our insides. Imagine a world in which we began to "own" our insides.

That said, it's time for me to “Aunt-Up” to my nephew.

Christian, I asked for your permission Thanksgiving, yes, over three months ago, if I could use a story from your childhood in one of my writings. You easily agreed and said you'd read it when it was complete. This is that story. I did not forget it. I procrastinated. One could say “my brain made me do it." I became uncomfortable. I got scared that someone would judge me thus I allowed my fear and discomfort to stop me. I’ve known I was not keeping my word to you but more importantly I wasn’t keeping my word with myself, my word being my commitment to write what I want to express regardless of how it’s received. My heart is unafraid, but similar to what you said at four- my brain made me do it or in my case my brain got scared and went about subtly creating different uncomfortable scenarios rather than listening to my wiser self.

In the earlier example from years ago, I referenced wishing I had engaged my brain. The greater truth is I wish I had engaged my heart even if that meant I fumbled for words or my eyes filled with tears. My brain forgets what my heart always knows.

Vulnerability is a gift, it is powerful to stand in what we feel and know at a heart level not knowing how we will be received. Actually this may be the forgotten key. Showing up in one's Truth, at our most vulnerable with another, and saying "I did it......" whatever it is allows another to have grace with us, to listen and offer forgiveness or whatever ingredient in the moment that's not shaming, but wise and loving.

I now send this out to you and anyone who happens to read it hoping that it contributes to a greater awareness of how we are connected within and between and more importantly reminding myself of the importance of hearing and speaking whatever Truth is for me.

Imagine the Shift if we claimed the power of vulnerability!

-Dawn aka Aunt Dawn, The Good News Muse, 9 March 2011