Sometimes it is staggeringly difficult to maintain a sense of vulnerability and openness in the face of loss and sorrow, or outright cruelty by others.  Vulnerability can feel to skinless, too exposed, too dangerous.   So thank you Brene Brown, for this: 

“What we know matters, but who we are matters more. Being rather than knowing requires showing up and letting ourselves be seen. It requires us to dare greatly, to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability isn’t good or bad. It’s not what we call a dark emotion, nor is it always a light, positive experience. Vulnerability is the core of all emotions and feelings. To feel is to be vulnerable. To believe vulnerability is weakness is to believe that feeling is weakness. To foreclose on our emotional life out of a fear that the costs will be too high is to walk away from the very thing that gives purpose and meaning to living.

Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”

Bless us with the first breath of morning.  Bless the packet of seeds for the garden, shaking like a shaman’s rattle in prayer.  Bless us with spare change in our pockets to give to the homeless, bless us with a heart that has been serviced by the mechanic, bless us with good tires on the icy road.  Bless us so that we’re not just covering our own asses, but weeping for the rest of the world.  Bless our tears so that they irrigate the land for the starving, that there be no more drought.  Bless us with one idea after another that we might sort out the good from the bad, bless us with free lunches and subscriptions, bless us with a winter storm so big that it closes everything down for a week and we find ourselves at the beginning of time.  Bless us with water, bless us with light, bless us with darkness, and bless us with language.  Bless our tongues that we can speak.  Bless our cars so they start.  Bless our computers so that they may connect to the internet, and bring us the news of the universe.  Bless Robert Bly and Gloria Steinem, bless all the worn-out athletes whose bodies are falling apart, bless the tides twice a day and the moon every month.  Bless the sun, bless us as we are blessing you, for this is a two-way street, after all, and we’re in this think together.  Bless mass transit, and the first cup of coffee.  Sing O ye frost heaves and icy patches, praise the spruce trees all crowded together, the crows in the trees flying heavenward and earthward, flying everywhere in between.  Bless the night with its constellations that we have dreamed up.  Bless our stories that they may somehow be true, for this is all we have.  Bless all creatures great and small and the basket makers who weave together a framework to hold emptiness.  Bless the empty spaces that are within our bodies, the vast distances inside each cell.  Bless each cell, which is its own universe, ready to divide, split in two, and make more than enough.

Prayers & Run-on Sentencesby Stuart Kestenbaum