Courage, Compassion, Connection :- The Gifts
When I picked up this book, it quickly became clear that vulnerability was the common thread weaving its way through every chapter. I'm not talking about the kind of vulnerability where you need to don a helmet and leather gear to hop on a motorcycle or suit up for a hazardous job. No, I’m referring to the kind where you bravely live your truth, even when it starkly contrasts with those around you, knowing full well it leaves you open to being hurt by others' words or actions. This is the brand of vulnerability many of us—pretty much every adult—learn to stow away as we grow. Brené Brown’s research emphasises that living a wholehearted life involves acting from a place of worthiness by practicing courage, connection, and compassion. I’m totally on board with this, so much so that I can’t imagine including vulnerability in my life, especially as a parent, without the trio of courage, compassion, and connection to our shared humanity.
Take courage, for example. The original meaning is “to speak one’s mind by telling one’s heart.” Sounds simple, right? In reality, this can be challenging, especially when I’m caught in the morning rush, trying to get the day started while my kids explore their world at a pace that would make snails impatient. This often leads to that moment where I, with the voice level I remind them not to use, vent my frustrations. Then, inevitably, one of my kids will eloquently point out, “You said no shouting and you shouted at me. That wasn’t kind!” That's my cue to swallow my pride, own up to my mistake, and sincerely apologise. “I’m really sorry I shouted and grabbed your hand. That was not kind, and I’ll try to do better next time.”
Getting called out by my kids still feels weird. Maybe it’s because I never heard my parents apologise to me, or it stems from social norms suggesting that apologising makes you appear ‘less than’. But in these moments, I choose courage because I want my children to learn that apologising isn’t a sign of weakness, but a demonstration of strength that affirms our humanity.
How can we claim to share a common humanity if we don’t see the power of apologies in nurturing connection? Genuine apologies bridge gaps and embrace our shared human experience. Practicing compassion often starts with the advice to “put yourself in their shoes,” which can be tricky if someone’s path is vastly different from your own. However, kindness and mindfulness seem to be more straightforward concepts. Kindness is often talked about, yet as parents, we sometimes reflect on where that emotional gremlin came from when we’ve uttered words we'd rather keep to ourselves. Better still, self-kindness and mindfulness are key components of true compassion. As a parent, I remind myself that my children haven’t been on this planet nearly as long as I have, so I should be more compassionate. Yelling at them during coat-wrangling battles doesn't enrich their human experience. If anything, it might embed unhelpful beliefs like “I’m not capable.” It’s crucial to be mindful of my emotional state and adjust how I engage with them.
It saddens me to hear about people who are estranged from their living parents or children. While I pass no judgment on these situations’ complexities, it highlights the significant role a parent plays in choosing to forge a better connection with their children. Such a bond, I believe, is cultivated long before they blossom into full-fledged adults. When they’re young, children constantly send signals for connection. Even when these signals come with tears, parents should be the most attuned to their children's vulnerability, offering an open heart and non-judgmental ears. By guiding rather than dictating, I aim to help my children recognise and trust their own voices, knowing they're cherished just as they are.
My experiences embracing courage, compassion, and connection with my children have involved joyous activities like play, singing, and dancing, alongside difficult ones like sincere apologies. “Sorry about that” doesn’t cut it compared to “I am sorry I shouted.” (I’ve picked up some tips about apologies from Harriet Lerner, but that’s another story.) My goal is to demonstrate to my kids early on that I’m not invincible and that respect for oneself and others is paramount.
A key objective in my parenting journey is to allow my children to truly understand who they are and live openly—embracing their vulnerability—armed with the gifts of courage, compassion, and connection.
“How much we know and understand ourselves is critically important, but there is something that is even more essential to living a wholehearted life: loving ourselves.” Brené