Letting Myself Be Seen (aka Oh, Hey Long Lost Blog + Thanks Brené Brown!)

Ever so often something happens in my life, in this world, that prompts me to revisit this:

This time around, I first re-watched it a couple of weeks ago because it was assigned viewing for my Strategic Design Integration class.

Sidenote: As many of you know, I finally made it to grad school(!) where I've been working my way towards an MBA, which hasn't been the typical experience. Well, there's been group work galore, yes, but the program itself is pretty unique in both its structure and focus because it's all centered around design thinking, or human-centered design.

There are numerous definitions of what design thinking is. It's become quite the buzzword of late, and while that unfortunately means there are all sorts of people and programs looking to capitalize on this as the "next big thing," the reality (for me) is, I know I'm in the thick of it because there are two things at the heart of it: humans and uncertainty, which Brené covers so deftly in that talk above.

Also, just so you know, my personal and professional takeaways from this educational experience seem, at the moment, to be infinite, and now that the blogging bug has bitten me again, I'm sure I'll muse on this topic ad nauseam now that graduation is e'er so near (MAY 15, 2017 ... not that I'm counting down or anything), so you've been warned—I mean, welcome to my latest adventure!

Anywho, as I watched the TED Talk again this afternoon, it struck me as I thought about myself and how I've evolved and been stretched throughout this SDMBA experience. About how—when I'm being completely honest with myself—there's been a persistent needling/ache to show up and be seen—not so much by anyone else (although I am quite the ham), but for myself ... for my soul's sake. I've tried to chalk it up to growing older, but lately I've realized that I've really put in some serious work to own all my good and bad shit and be wholly me — exuberant, contradictory, hilariously ridiculous, open and loving and ever-seeking me, and that's meant I had to do some design work of my own. I've had to practice before I could preach.

When I first watched this video sometime in 2011 it made me squirm and laugh and squirm some more. But I felt the whole time she was on to something, that she was right about some part of me ... and she was (and still is). The whole experience of interviewing, visiting the school, applying and starting each class made me feel insanely vulnerable. 

I didn't go back to school so I could add a sequence of letters after my name. It felt, and still feels like, a dare that the ever-playful, adventurous kid in me couldn't resist. I dared myself to go back to school almost 15 years after getting my undergrad degree because I suspected/felt there were things I still needed to learn before I could move forward in my life and in my career. I've gambled on myself by taking on this crazy student debt. I dared myself to imagine and not accept that I can only have one career, or that I can only do one thing or only thrive professionally in one place or in one capacity. I challenged myself not to accept that there's only one lot in life — the one that just happens.

While on the surface what I've learned has challenged me to look at the world from a business standpoint to reimagine possibilities and opportunities for growth and profitability, etc., the reality is that I've taken everything I've learned and invested it in myself. So often, when we think about our educational system, we lambast it for burdening us with so many impracticalities—long division, common core math (whatever the hell that is), MLA handbooks, The Red Badge of Courage. But this program has given me something entirely different. I've been using everything I've learned — empathizing, defining problem(s), brainstorming ideas, prototyping solutions, testing stuff out and failing and starting all over again — on myself the whole time, often without even realizing it.

Since starting the program in August 2015, I've had three different jobs in three different industries (good design); I've lost 40 lbs. and gained 50+ back (not-so-good design); I've been on the most delightful domestic and international adventures (very Ina-Garten-good design); I've put in a LOT of work to get to know myself better (challenging design); I've made the most amazing new friends and have deepened the relationships with my family and other friends (fun, life-altering design); I've also cut some folks loose (tricky design). Going back to school was scary for me because, like this video points out, I realized pretty quickly that it made me feel very vulnerable. Like I wasn't as smart as I'd once thought I was; that there were so many areas in my life where I wasn't quite enough. 

I love this TED Talk because seven years later it's just as poignant as ever. That whole series of correlations she makes between our fear of discomfort, our resistance to/ignorance of vulnerability and shame and how we over-consume on almost everything, how we try to selectively numb ourselves. It's all an awakening of sorts. Equal parts hellur + woosah.

Just look at all the Facebook exchanges—show me all your babies and pets but not your politics or religion. 

But why? 

People post opinions or stream-of-conscious thoughts and they're immediately judged as being wrong. Since when does everyone only get to be right or wrong? Red or blue? Muslim or Christian? Winner or loser? A failure or a success? Perfect versus just trying to keep up with everyone else?

It doesn't seem to get us to anywhere but where we are now: selectively hiding and scrolling past each other ... online and in real life. We can extend compassion to pit bulls but not parolees; we can love our church neighbor, but not that immigrant one down the street. We can claim the one black friend we had in high school, but not the one kneeling in silence on the sidelines. We can oh-my-god-YAAAAASSSSS love all the Queer Eye guys on TV but struggle to love the ones in our families and our daily lives.

When and where can we be our whole, confounding and fascinating selves? And with whom?

Personally I've now discovered that the uncertainty and discomfort happens on both sides. And that as hard as it can be to admit I can be prejudiced and judgmental and hasty with my conclusions, that I can claim that and figure out how to build a bridge in spite of it. I've discovered that I'm just as uncomfortable pretending that everything is fine as I am when I choke past the shame and discomfort to acknowledge that everything is not okay or that I've been mistaken.

The difference for me is that there's always some other place to go when I choose the latter path. I can always ask myself: So what isn't okay? Why isn't it okay? What would make it okay? Conversations, change, growth and movement can come from owning up to the oh-I-fucked-up failures and the geez-I-don't-want-to-have-to-say-this-out-loud discomforts, and that keeps me going. That's what keeps me funny and creative and seeking and alive; it keeps me open and honest and fierce. It hits at why you love me and it's how and why I can love you too. 

I wanna know what you thought about when you watched Brené's talk. It's been awhile since I've peppered you with rambles on my blog. Let's catch up—we're probably overdue for a dinner, coffee date, visit, Skype/FaceTime/phone call anyways :)