Naming and Releasing Shame

Dear friends,

In the second edition of Cards for Remembering, one of the new cards reads, "I practice naming and releasing shame." Despite having created it, it's not a card I enjoy encountering. Most often, I take some deep breaths, preparing myself for the work ahead. 

During my 50 days of birthday celebration, a friend used Cards for Remembering to do a reading for me: 

I treat my fear, anger, anxiety, and overwhelm with care and I ask for help when I struggle to do it myself. 

I accept the messy, beautiful flow of LIFE. 

I practice naming and releasing shame. 

To share it with me, she made a photo puzzle at a nearby Walgreens. I picked up the reading/puzzle just after a really difficult meeting that left me feeling demoralized and, quite frankly, ashamed. I was fighting tears when I walked into Walgreens.

To receive these cards in this way brought on a slew of emotions. I was grateful for the unique presentation of the reading- my predicament definitely felt puzzling! I felt self-conscious because these cards touched on exactly what I was experiencing and I wasn't too keen on others seeing those difficult emotions and knowing their source. I was relieved for the validation of my experience.   

Shame is a sneaky bugger, often masquerading as or hiding behind other emotions. Shame may forcefully or subtly appear in messages of "how dare you," "should," "have to," "supposed to," "shouldn't," "can't." We might respond to shame with avoidance, denial, or projection in order to shield ourselves from the pain of shame. 

What would our world look like if we grew our capacity to name and release shame?

I was recently at a presentation in which Hannah Drake, author/activist/co-founder of the (Un)Known Project, was talking about the importance of uncovering and grappling with our history, in this case, personal and collective ties to slavery. She said something that wasn't new, but still really struck a chord: "Shame doesn't set us free. The truth sets us free."

Knowing or discovering certain truths (whether personal or collective) may elicit shame. If we don't allow the shame to the surface, it festers within us and will likely either come out in unexpected and damaging ways or erode us from the inside out, also causing harm. 

Unfortunately, shame (and its close counterpart blame) is baked into the dominant cultural framework. It's hard to get away from the finger-wagging judgments. We may even hold a belief that shaming someone (including ourselves) can bring change. We sometimes confuse shaming with holding someone accountability. They're not the same.

Naming and releasing shame is a counter-cultural and liberatory act. It's also uncomfortable, sometimes reeeeeeeeeeeally uncomfortable. But no one ever said growth and healing were comfortable.

A persistent self-judgment I have worked with over many years relates to my ability to create and maintain order. To the best of my knowledge, no one has rejected me because my desk, my office, my house are messy and sometimes dirty. Even so, while I work in the realms of emotional messes and creative messes and feel (mostly) comfortable sharing those spaces with others, I am not keen on allowing people to see my physical messes. The cultural assumptions and judgments about people who can't or don't maintain orderly spaces don't help. In this, I've been working to release the shame and practice self-compassion. 

I know I'm making progress because recently I shared the following on Facebook: 

Dear Louisville friends- you may or may not know that, while I am skilled in many ways, creating & maintaining physical order & cleanliness isn’t my great strength. When life is full and/or when I’m stressed, I have even less capacity for it.

My hope was to have my house & yard cleared & cleaned out by my birthday. Life has been so full that that won’t happen and I’m ok with that.

However, I do want to do this work & am wondering who I know who LOVES to organize & clean (and/or work in the yard) & who has capacity & willingness to share 1-2 hours with me in March or April & can do so with the awareness that getting into my physical mess with someone else feels scarier to me than some circumstances in which I am in actual physical danger.

I am putting the request on FB because the work is big &, I believe, easiest when shared. Also I know y’all love me and that’ll be true whether I can keep my house & yard clean or not.

Respond if sharing time in this way would bring you joy- and LMK if there are particular cleaning/organizing tasks you especially love.

People I know well and some I've never met in person responded both with messages of solidarity ("I have the same struggle") and offers to help me. The outpouring of love was beautiful. Though I've barely started the actual cleaning and organizing work, I feel confident I now have the support I'll need to do it. That wouldn't have happened if I hadn't taken the risk of naming my messy truth. 

I realize that there are truths much more painful and riskier to name than the one above. So again I ask: 

What would our world look like if we grew our capacity to name and release shame?

Can we practice doing so more in our relationships of trust and care?

Can we step into courage to do so in more public ways and also honor those who speak difficult truths? 

What do you think?

I'd love to know.  

~~~

It is thanks to Compassionate Communication, that I am able to name my difficult truths without collapsing into puddles of shame. This is why I love sharing it. Starting tomorrow, March 9, my 4-week online Compassionate Communication class, Meeting in the Field of Connection, begins. There are still spots open. Come join us!


Also my two birthday offers are happening through this Saturday, March 11:
Offer 1: Buy two 2nd edition Cards for Remembering Decks, get a third for 50% off- that's $24 in savings! Go here and use the coupon code BIRTHDAY when you check out. Or come see me at Saturdays with Spirit this Saturday!

Offer 2: OR when you spend $40 or more on decks, prints, and/or original art, use the code BDAYFREESHIP to get, you guessed it, free delivery or shipping. All of my available art isn't up on the page; you can also see some of it on Instagram or Facebook. 

I also have this request: If you have taken a workshop or class that has been valuable to you, if you have a Cards for Remembering deck that gives you just the messages you need, if you have a Heart Portrait or Heart Sketch that you love and that loves you, if my writing speaks to you, please tell someone(s) about my work- forward this email, share my Facebook or Instagram pages, or tell them in a good ol' regular conversation. Thank you so much for considering this request!  

In gratitude, 
Cory

We Who Believe in Freedom...

I delivered most of the following words to my beloved church community yesterday. I have added a few other thoughts that I didn’t speak yesterday because of time constraints.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (July 5, 2020)

Zechariah 9:9-10; Romans 8:9, 11-13; Matthew 11:25-30

“We who believe in freedom cannot rest. We who believe in freedom cannot rest until It comes.”

– “Ella’s Song”, by Bernice Johnson Reagon, originally sung by Sweet Honey in the Rock

I have sung these words many times. As much as I love the song, recently I have had a niggling discomfort with this refrain. Yes, if we believe in freedom, we must work toward collective liberation. None of us are free until all of us are free. I believe the movement toward collective liberation is long work, longer than any of our lives. For that very reason, I believe that sometimes we have to rest. I believe that sometimes the work toward collective liberation actually is to rest.

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus invites those “who labor and find life burdensome” to “[t]ake my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me... You will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” The second reading tells us that we are called to live by the Spirit.

How do we live by the Spirit during global upheaval? How do we translate Jesus’ message to these times?

It feels safe to say all of us have been affected by events of the last several months. Some have experienced some slowing down, new spaciousness in their days. Others have experienced a speeding up, crowded days and crowded space, bearing the months-long weight of 24/7 parenting, full-time jobs, plus the new job of school teacher, all under one roof. Or taking care of COVID patients, or responding to mental health needs- anxiety, loneliness, grief- in a country and world that’s been turned upside down. Lost joys, lost jobs, lost loves. We know these realities. In one form or another, we are all living them.

In the midst of the pandemic, George Floyd was murdered by police, knee on his neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. And we learned about Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor and remember so many others before them and learn new names of people who’ve been killed afterwards. Eyes that had not previously seen the disease of systemic racism are being opened. In response, people in all 50 states and across the globe, in big cities and small rural communities, have taken to the streets, willing to risk COVID-19 to affirm that Black lives matter. Then there are those at higher risk or caring for high-risk folks who are staying home, apologizing for not being on the streets and discerning how to respond in other ways.

We who believe in freedom cannot rest.

Take my yoke upon your shoulders, you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light. 

The culture we live in doesn’t value rest. Our culture values production, workaholism, working until we’re sick- physically, emotionally, spiritually- even working some of us, historically our Black and Brown siblings, to death. If we want collective liberation, the means are as important as the ends. We must build new systems even as we live in old ones crashing down around us. If we want to live in a world where people are valued simply because they are, then we need to free ourselves from the idea that people, including ourselves, are, first and foremost, what we do.

A few years ago I spent about a week at the Dakota Access Pipeline protest site of Standing Rock in North Dakota. By the time I got there, it was bitter-cold winter, there weren’t protests going on. Within minutes of arriving, I found work in a community kitchen, taking the place of someone who was leaving. A few nights into my stay, I was in a cozy tea yurt with a group of people and someone asked the group, “Why are you here?” My immediate answer: I am here to tell people to rest. The answer surprised me, but I knew it was true. I had encountered many dedicated folks who’d been at the camp for weeks to months- they were worn out, sick, edgy because of all they had experienced. From my place in the kitchen I found myself encouraging people to rest- to take more time sitting and eating by the fire, to get more sleep, to take a day or two away in a hotel where they could shower, take off a few layers of clothing, sleep in a bed. Some heeded the advice; others didn’t.

When I came home from Standing Rock, I went right back to work. Even though I’d only been gone for a week, I ended up with both the flu and a bad sinus infection.

I am only beginning to follow my own advice. My experience at and after Standing Rock is not the only times I have’t allowed myself to rest. I have too often gone from intense experience to intense experience without time to recover. It has too often resulted in physical illness. So I continue to try to integrate the lesson.

Slowly I am learning to practice it better. The very first card I made for my Cards for Remembering reads “I am allowed to rest.” During these weeks of protest, I’ve been aware of my capacity; I’ve stepped back more than I might have in the past or found ways to contribute that have been less taxing while I recover. I have accepted help when people have offered. As a result, when I do show up, I am doing so from a place of greater grounding and readiness.

adrienne maree brown cites Toni Cade Bambara when she says that “we must make just and liberated futures irresistible. We are all the protagonists of what might be called the great turning, the change, the new economy, the new world.” What a time to be alive!

To create a new world, we must not only do the serious and hard work of dismantling systems of oppression, but also cultivate joy, pleasure, and rest. We must interrupt the messages that say that resting is for the weak. We must take note of the weight we carry and consider whether it is ours to take on more or to allow others to take some of our load. This is not a once-and-for-all decision; it changes according to context. Knowing what is ours to carry comes from listening deeply to the Spirit that lives in us- individually and collectively. If you are weary, you are allowed to rest. If you’ve had time to rest and are ready to take on more weight, there are ways to do so, even from the safety of your home. A few days ago, community member Anice Chenault wrote this description of movements. It feels both specific to now and timeless. I wonder if you find yourself in this description or can imagine a place for yourself that’s not mentioned. 

Here’s how movements work. Dreamers and visionaries imagine up powerful actions, rooted in culture and the present moment. Actions are placed in the context of larger strategy and mission. Many actions, many different ways. We learn from our movement elders and listen to the leadership of the youth. We unlearn the white-washed lies we’ve been told. OGs train new folks in Direct Action tactics - most importantly, how to stay grounded and embodied and de-escalate ourselves and others. Folks show up to the front lines. Grandparents keep the kids when the risks are too high. Moms organize supply collections and deliveries. Businesses offer their physical locations as collection points. Our geeky friends provide tech support. Folks offer their presence - for hours, days or weeks. Street Medics work in shifts 24/7. Stay-at-home folks staff social media. Volunteers get folks to the polls on Election Day. Thousands of people join phone banks to raise awareness and funds. Night owls stay 12-hour shifts to make sure that loved ones are apprised of the status of folks in jail and are there at 4am when they are released to cheer, offer water and pizza and cigarettes and a ride home. We build locally and nationally and internationally. Sometimes, one partner handles a full-time job, a quote on a new water heater, getting the lawn mowed, and registering the kid for summer camp so another can be about movement work full-time. Single parents move mountains and show up with babies in slings and set about the work. People give money to keep it going. Mental Health folks and healers show up because there is TRAUMA in this work and it is imperative that we heal. We check in on each other. We build community and trust over time. Pot-lucks are strategic movement-building tools. We risk the conversations to break white silence. We believe people of color and women and trans folk and anyone who is telling us about their own oppression. We call each other in when we make mistakes. We learn to apologize to each other. We try again. Moms organize family-friendly actions so we can start to train the next generation. It takes us all.

When we each take a part, the work becomes a little lighter and a little more sustainable, particularly for those who have historically shouldered the most weight. And so I wonder, what is yours to do right now? Is your work to offer or to receive relief? Could both be true at once? Trust that both are beautiful acts. We who believe in freedom must sometimes rest.

The above video was recorded in Louisville, KY on July 4, 2020 at Jefferson Square Park, which many people now refer to as Injustice Square or Breonna Taylor Park. Located between the City Hall, Louisville Metro Police Headquarters, Metro Corrections, and the courts, it is the center of ongoing protests seeking justice for Breonna Taylor and the larger call to racial justice. Singing this song not quite perfectly, at this place, with street sounds and whoever chose to be around us, on Independence Day felt like a way to honor a fuller meaning of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”