Vulnerability In Change Part II-Let's Get Naked!

by Pamela Chapman

Vulnerability In Change: Part I — Just Like Junior High Again

In my last piece, I shared the true story of my recent transition to the Yucatan. I was completely transparent and honest. I know the power of transparency. I have experienced its transforming power firsthand. My initial experience was working for the Orange County Rescue Mission in Southern Cal as a case manager. I had been warned that I should never, ever share my personal story with clients. But, I had no other story. I told it and the chains and bondages fell away.

My second experience was through the mentorship of my business coach Maria Simone accompanied by her techie, genius husband Michael (aka Doc) Murdock. Several years ago, during an online coaching session with several on the call, I shared my anxieties, my feelings of helplessness (aka self-pity), and paralysis. The session took a different course becoming a spiritual healing session for not just me but for all.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the best way—the only way for me to assist others in their healing is to bear my soul; being naked before my audience; allowing them to realize I too have set backs, misfortunes, challenges as well as major successes and victories.

I believe there is not one of us still breathing on this living earth who has achieved expert level. When you get to the place where you believe you are, the next phase comes accompanied by growing pains, to launch you to the next plateau. When you ascend to where you are un-teachable or the master, you are allowed to cross over into the next realm. There are days I spend more time practicing what I teach than actually teaching. I am one who believes we all teach what we need to know. There are days when I ask, seek, knock and then ask some more.

What Went Wrong

What happens in your life course, in your stretching if you’re aware, is you become more and more enlightened. So what does that mean? It means you no longer need a building to fall on your head when the expanding life lesson appears. It means you respond to light: the light taps, the light study, the light path. You become in tune with light. When there is a lesson to learn, you grasp it openly and willingly. It means you no longer blame your present or your journey on someone or something. You take responsibility. Transparency is the path of the enlightened journey.

When I was attracting cheaters and twisted souls in my Yucatan transition I asked, “What is going on with me? Why am I attracting this? What’s up with all these adolescent, junior-high, teenage fears revisiting? More importantly I asked, “What did I subconsciously or consciously ask the Universe?” (I’ll provide these answers in upcoming episodes.)

I know the tools. I teach the tools. I have learned tools from others and refined them. I have the hidden knowledge or what some call the secret. I know who I am and I understand my calling. But, I am also wise enough to understand pride comes before the fall. So, I never attempt to pretend I’ve got it ALL together. Oh no! I don’t need any lessons in humility. Well so at least I believed. You’ll hear more about the Yucatan humility lesson soon enough.

“What I want you to understand, especially my beautiful sisters out there, it proves nothing and nothing is gained by pretending you have no problems, weaknesses or challenges. The mask conceals ones true identity and alienates those you could possibly assist.” It intimidates. It allows others to believe they will never, ever be able to accomplish what you are: perfection.  (I’m reminded here of a Scripture that speaks of one’s righteousness or self-righteousness being as a filthy rags. And ladies, this Scripture ain’t talking about a dust rag.) 

When you remove the mask and share your story or your mystery (my story) with others, when you are transparent, filled with light, you permit others to not only see your challenges but your victories and overcoming as well. It gives them hope in accomplishing the same. You allow them to join you on the enlightenment or the road to glory.

My Solution

Each morning, in spite of feeling vulnerable, I would take time to ground. I would do the work to reduce, calm, and eradicate the mind chatter. With all of the challenges my new and unfamiliar environment had brought me, each day I was determined to find balance, joy and peace. Each day, my goal was to become a little more familiar with my new surroundings.

Whether it was exploring the new coast with my lab pals; or learning how to say, “Stop here please” in Spanish so I could ride the bus; or shopping and having lunch with my gorgeous expat sisters in the magical city of Merida, there was always the choice: drown in my sorrows and helplessness or make the best out of the seemingly mess.  I could be the victim or be victorious.

A Reality Reminder

The vulnerability I have recently experienced reminded me of the women I talk to. It reminded me of the teenage girl leaving elementary school trying to fit and find her way in junior high. It reminded me of the woman going through a harrowing divorce or the woman who has lost her soul mate to death having to deal with urgent family affairs, adjust to being single, and no longer being accepted amongst her married friends.

It reminded me of the woman losing her job having worked for the same employer for fifteen or twenty years, having climbed the corporate ladder, now being snubbed by what were once her professional peers. It reminded me of the woman who’d been abused and battered finding a shelter not only being distanced from the foe she still somehow loves; but, being isolated from family and friends, as well.

Nothing stays the same but change. We can fight it, judge it, or roll with it. When major transition comes upon us bringing unfamiliar turf, Vulnerability with a capital V rears its ugly head. It will have you asking yourself, “Am I okay?” It will make you paranoid. It will render you fearful.  It can cause paralysis. It will make you crazy in your head, emotions, crippling your mind, body and soul.

There is never any shame for your feelings, even those of vulnerability. The shame is wearing it beneath a mask while it festers, rots and stinks. The shame is getting comfortable in it and making excuses for it. The shame is remaining in its grip being its lifeless slave and limp casualty.

—To be continued

Pamela Chapman is Founder of iAscend Programs, an author and certified life coach who has worked extensively with victim services organizations and advocated for many years.  She now spends her time writing and traveling, living each day as a new adventure!  Her latest blog is You Are Not A Victim

Vulnerability In Change: Part I — Just Like Junior High Again

by Pamela Chapman

I’ve recently experienced a major life-transition. I never knew the physical change I’ve dreamed about for so long would take me down Vulnerable Boulevard which almost lead to “Hysteria Lane.” Now I think it funny. After so many years of doing the work, and after teaching the power of God, Creator and All Energy, I was feeling like a thirteen-year old leaving elementary school headed into junior high school: stupid, afraid, and vulnerable.

That’s right! All the fears, all the vulnerability, all the school-girl craziness flooded back. Humbling, terrifying, mystifying; everything I’d ever feared, wondered, questioned all rolled up and delivered in a neat little package; all within seven weeks. Here I was the transitional-life coach right smack-dab in the middle of the weirdest transition ever.

You see, in October my partner and I moved to the Yucatan Peninsula. It was the beginning of our transition into retirement. From the very first time we set eyes on this mystical land, we knew this was the place. No questions asked. For several years we visited, each time staying longer. Now it was time to plunge in for the six-month test making sure the place we had pegged, the beach, was the right place indeed.

We knew before setting out, we’d have to return to the States within a month to handle holiday business. We planned to drive down and then drive back to the U.S. In turn, after the holidays, six weeks, we’d make the six-day drive through Mexico to the Yucatan again. After the first trip, we realized not only was it not economical neither was it the sensible thing to do. We couldn’t put our hairy, four-legged family members through that experience again so soon. Nor could we do it to ourselves. So, in our infinite wisdom, we decided my partner would return to the States via Frontier Airlines while I stayed behind.

Where we have chosen to stay in the country of Mexico is very safe. We don’t worry about the Cartel or gang and drug violence or anything else for that matter. The Gulf Sea is at our feet. Everyday is Sunday. This thing called time takes on a new dimension and meaning here. What could possibly go wrong? My three protectors, my three crazy labs, and I would carry on.

Reflecting back, I don’t know what we were thinking. I would be without a vehicle. The truck we’d driven down would be here, but it is a one-ton, monster truck with six shifts. While I’ve been driving since nineteen, the share size and power of the vehicle intimidates me.

I don’t know why we hadn’t thought about a rental. Oh yes, I do! The insurance required would have cost me just as much as the car rental itself. And, I would need to get to the next town in order to rent the vehicle. My handle on the language was nil at that time. It’s not much better now, but, I now have the confidence to blurt something out even if it’s a far cry from what I’m trying to say. Like, “Can I pickup my laundry on green?” So now, I couldn’t drive and I wouldn’t go anywhere without an escort because I couldn’t communicate with the bus drivers where I needed to go and I couldn’t phone for a cab.

To add to the dilemma, some of our first contacts on the beautiful beach were somewhat bizarre and convoluted. At first, they appeared to be good and straightforward but in reality they were difficult and some were what I would define as downright evil. These folk had the personal agenda of making loads of money quickly and easily off the non-suspecting, naive newcomers. There were many good people, of course; great people in fact. But, for some reason they weren’t our initial contacts. 

With my partner headed back for the States, I was the new kid on the block trying to sort out the good guys from the bad—the northern banditos with contracts versus the honest realtors. Who really wanted to befriend me for the sake of being friends? Who was telling the truth? Who could I trust? There were days when it was impossible to tell. Yep, just like seventh grade.

So now I have: no transportation, limited communication, and the need to sort out the genuine from the frauds, fakes and fanatics.

Let me add one more piece to the puzzle. The infrastructure in this part of Mexico is not keeping up with the numbers who are migrating. So, the Internet service is one that can be enhanced. We use the Internet for television, phone service and of course email. When the service is down all communication in our house is cut off from the outside world. There were days I would awaken and have no means of connecting with my partner in the States. I could have used the cell phone but that was an extremely expensive way to do so. I did, often times, send text messages to let him know I was okay.

There were days I would sit in my house surrounded by many neighbors; yet, so isolated.  To top it off, the first week my partner was away one of our sweetest, lovable labs let his natural instinct kick in and attacked the neighbor’s family cat. She died within two days of the incident. Would this family still like us? What would be the gossip in the Beach Post? This family had brought their pet down from the States having been in the family for years. My partner and I cried on the phone, together, that evening.

Was God trying to tell me something? Was I trying to tell me something? What the hell was going on? Things became so convoluted there were days I couldn’t tell reality from the Yucatan Twilight Zone. When I did connect with my partner in the States, the conversations should have been sweet and cherished, “Hi honey, so good to hear from you.” However, the conversations were turning sour. “Why didn’t you call! I’m sitting here all alone, don’t you know I need you, you $%&%?” Thoughts lead to feelings, which lead to actions. My actions or reactions lead to a result. What was resulting in my life was distrust, cynicism and paranoia and let’s not forget anxiety and stress.

Yes! Just like junior high. All I needed was an outbreak of acne. But wait! I did have an outbreak of acne. Big welts appeared on my checks and along the insides of my nose. There I was in the local Farmacia, in frustration pointing to the big, unsightly, pus-filled welts trying to ask for acne medicine at fifty-six years young.

I’ve often thought, “To only be a teenager and know what I know today, I’d do some things differently.” I’d been presented with the opportunity. Life in the Yucatan was unfolding and time would tell if I’d keep those words.

—To be continued

Pamela Chapman is Founder of iAscend Programs, an author and certified life coach who has worked extensively with victim services organizations and advocated for many years.  She now spends her time writing and traveling, living each day as a new adventure!  Her latest blog is You Are Not A Victim

Vulnerabilty, Danger, and Blame

By Roger Canaff

“There is no vulnerability without danger.” Veronique Nicole Valliere, Psy.D.

It’s a simple and brilliant truth, introduced to me at a sex assault prosecution training in 2009. The doc was discussing how we blame women (and men) who are sexually assaulted, particularly when their choices leading up to the attack make them, in most minds, “more vulnerable.” Like when they drink too much, or when they go home with a man they don’t know well. And so on.

When I heard it, I nodded sagely. Sure, I believed in what I called “rape prevention,” and felt that everyone needed to take some responsibility for their own personal safety. But that’s all. I wasn’t anywhere near victim blaming. Because I was too smart for that. Too enlightened. Too smugly ensconced as one of the more influential sex assault prosecution experts nationwide. So naturally, I understood her perfectly.

Except that I didn’t. Because I was victim blaming, even though I told myself I wasn’t. And in buying into the kind of “rape prevention” I believed in, I was a part of the problem. Many of us, most with the best of intentions, still are.

The ad above from the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (now pulled) sparked a debate in feminist circles. The ad itself wasn’t the issue; most agreed it was offensive. Visually it sexualized violence, right down to the blue underwear around the seductively placed ankles matching the tile on the floor. That’s not a representation of the aftermath of a felony. It’s wanna-be pornography. And of course, it callously blamed both the curled up, naughty-girl and her irresponsible friends for not preventing the rape she apparently endured. No mention of the rapist.

But while the attempt was botched, the underlying message begged a question: Shouldn’t we warn girls and women about the dangers of losing control, and thus “becoming vulnerable?” Isn’t it simply a dangerous world, like it or not? Of course it is and of course we should, went the argument. It was a bold one apparently, expectant of a backlash from uber-feminist PC police who would label it victim blaming even though the goal was simply to “reduce vulnerability.” When the backlash came, I initially sided against it. I had seen a career’s worth of victimization- how could I not encourage safe behavior myself, in the name of reducing vulnerability? Because vulnerability invites danger. Right?

Wrong.

Go back to the statement at the top of the page. Vulnerability does not exist unless danger is present. Choices, however reckless they appear, do not create danger anymore than liquor creates rape in a man who is not a rapist. Danger exists because of the choices dangerous people- rapists, in this case- make. From this reality, two others flow: First, encouraging young people (the most at-risk population, male or female) to avoid victimization through more responsible behavior will not prevent a single rape, as author Jaclyn Friedman points out in her piece on the subject. Rape is never an accident, and it’s almost always a planned attack. The rapist who cannot target the “better-behaved” woman will find one who isn’t. So there won’t be less rape, just rape of perhaps different people. Of course, the predictable rejoinder is “well my daughter won’t be the targeted person, then.” Game, set, match. Admonish away.

Except that she might be regardless, which is the second reality that results from Dr. Valliere’s observation. The woman who believes she is safer because she’s avoiding something like heavy drinking might well be safer to a particular kind of attack. But there are many others, and being lulled into a false sense of security because of the avoidance of one behavior will likely blind her to the danger that can exist under the most responsible appearing of circumstances. Women are raped by trusted friends. They’re raped during the daytime while studying or just listening to music with known, clean-cut, well-regarded men in their communities, on their campuses, from their churches. Alcohol is extremely helpful to acquaintance rapists. But it is hardly their only tool.

Youth involves blind spots, but regardless of age, risk-taking is at bottom the essence of life. There is no elimination of it short of solitary confinement. What we must do is grasp that vulnerability exists only when danger is present, and turn the focus rightly on the dangerous and away from the endangered.

Because when we create rules, particularly ones laced with moral superiority in order to somehow deliver us from evil, we then distance ourselves from those who break them. When those people are victimized, we rest easy, believing that our wisdom and temperance saved us. But there are always more rules, both to make and to break. In the end, all that rule making accomplishes is the encouragement of an insidious urge to will to life something other than luck separating us from the unlucky. So we’ll draw attention to the choices the rule breakers made that we wouldn’t make. And we’ll blame them for theirs.

A widely known child protection and anti-violence against women advocate, legal expert, author and public speaker, Roger Canaff has devoted his legal career to the eradication of violence against women and children.

Roger Canaff: Anti-Violence Advocate, Child Protection Specialist, Legal Expert Blog: WCSV (Women, Children, Sex, Violence: Outcry, Analysis, Discussion) www.rogercanaff.com