Vulnerability – the deepest form of trust.
Each of us has a place inside, deep inside our inmost being, hidden away from prying eyes and mocking words. It is a place of snowflakes and bubbles, of hopes and fears. It is a place in which one wrong move means catastrophe – bubbles popping, snowflakes melting, fear realized, hope torn apart, and trust broken, mangled, often irreparable. For no one shows this place of vulnerability unless they trust the viewer. And this trust is built slowly – a bubble here, three snowflakes there – the giver afraid to trust that they will be treated carefully and returned whole and untainted. The viewer should be grateful indeed to have been trusted with such precious gifts, such fragile pieces of the owner’s being, pulled away gently, painfully, and presented with shallow-breathed fear.
Perhaps one day the owner will let the trusted one peer through the keyhole into the place where the snowflakes and bubbles reside. Perhaps the owner will explain some of the things the trusted one sees, voice breaking or solemn, excited or terrified, so horribly afraid of rejection and catastrophe. And then, one day, the most precious gift of all, when the owner unlocks the door and leads the trusted one inside, confident – or nearly so – that the trusted one is deserving and will not mangle, mar or disturb any of the fragile objects within, unless it is to breathe life into the hopes and dreams, and shrink or dull the fears.
Yes, vulnerability is the deepest form of trust.