Best 404 quotes in «vulnerability quotes» category

Sex is a metaphor for everything else and everything is a metaphor for sex as well. Because sex is a coming together of two weather patterns, two separate countries, two entities in a conscious state of potentially blissful crisis. Or chaos, or harmony. You’re not quite sure what’s going to happen, but it is the most catastrophic, exciting, and weakening thing that can happen to us. If we are personally involved in it, every fiber of our being is made self-conscious, or is encourages to unify on some level with others. We are delicate. We bring our damage to sexuality, we bring our hopes, we bring our self-image, we bring our world-image, we bring what we believe we are/what we believe we aren’t, our blind spots, our prejudices, our sadness. Everything comes out. A lot of people are left wanting, and confusing, and having the idea that their body is like an unloved apartment building; it’s up for grabs and it’s of absolutely no worth. If we feel that way about ourselves and if we feel that way about others, then of course, sex is nothing more than a lot of rubbing and some kind of release. But the more we are, the more we can feel, the more we can empathize, the more human we are.

Shame resilient cultures nurture folks who are much more open to soliciting, accepting, and incorporating feedback. These cultures also nuturn engaged, tenacious people who expect to have to try and try again to get it right - people who are much more willing to get innovative and creative in their efforts. A sense of worthiness inspires us to be vulnerable, share openly, and persevere. Shame keeps us small, resentful, and afraid. In shame-prone cultures, where parents, leaders, and administrators consciously or unconsciously encourage people to connect their self-worth to what they produce, I see disengagement, blame, gossip, stagnation, favoritism, and a total dirth of creativity and innovation.

She had responded to the loss of her husband, to poverty, to disease, and to family cruelty with boldness and ingenuity, by opening herself to others, especially to her children and her Church, pouring into these precious vessels her knowledge, hope, and devotion.

...she has somehow heard your deepest, darkest secrets without even asking. She is blessed with an innate ability to make people feel seen, heard, and safe, meanwhile keeping her own vulnerability tucked just beneath the surface of her own skin. She shares it with only a very select and privileged few.

She is all that I have ever desired in a woman. She is sensitive and tender. And she hides a vulnerability within her that only the people who are close to her can find. A charm that touches the unknown places in my heart. She is the ache in my heart.

She looked not so much composed as drawn inward. She was one of those people who are irrevocably, incurably honest and therefore both inflexible and vulnerable at the same time.

She seemed almost to have a perverse impulse to make anyone who cared about her regret it, to find the thing that would most appall those people and then do that until they had to run away as a matter of self-preservation.

She seemed so vulnerable and in her vulnerability there was some exotic kind of beauty that dragged him away from the mundane world to another unidentifiable one. " From "He wrote Lily

She straightened her back another degree, even as Merrick's eyelids sank lower. He looked half asleep but he remained alert to everything around him, including her increasingly frail resistance. Good heavens, he didn't have to watch her to confirm her vulnerability. Hadn't she just let him kiss her into a stupor? He hadn't mentioned the kisses. Nor had she. But every time she met his glinting silver eyes, she remembered the shocking intimacy of his tongue in her mouth.

She was finally beginning to understand what her mother had meant––how opening up can make you vulnerable.

Siamo vulnerabili, non fragili, ma il nostro desiderio di attraversare la vita senza provare dolore ci fa sentire fragili.

Sometimes, breaking down is the bravest thing you can do.

Society has taught us that vulnerability is synonymous with weakness—but it’s just the opposite. Vulnerability is the willingness to show up and be seen by others in the face of uncertain outcomes. There’s not a single act of courage that doesn’t involve vulnerability.

Some of the common occurrences of injustice are the presence of poverty, starvation, gender inequality, neglected widows and orphans and the injustice towards other vulnerable groups of people.

Some people should not be allowed to see beyond your surface. Seeing your vulnerability is a privilege, not meant for everyone.

Sometimes being vulnerable as a child is not knowing what lies ahead. We think our choices will make a huge difference in our lives because our parents and other elders spend so much time making sure we think before we act and make our minds up about what we want to be “when we grow up”. Some are already at that stage early on, some are not. We learn the ways of the world all in good time, but being vulnerable is to be human. We never stop.

Sometimes it's better to show our vulnerability / pain / regrets so others don't think us impervious / unapproachable - be real / open

Sometimes seemingly small things may affect someone in a big way ! We all are different - our journeys, our vulnerabilities are unique. Be gentle while walking in other's life.

Sometimes living with memory, with the thought of what friends, those who shared your soul and dreams, will do to you is worse than taking a bullet or having someone stab your flesh. There is a way of bleeding from one's soul.

Sometimes, the only way to evolve is to open ourselves fully.

Sophie(female): This life is not worth living without the people that make us want to tear down those walls. The thrill of vulnerability the danger of opening your heart. It makes us feel alive. Parker(female): I feel alive when I'm jumping down a building. Sophie(female): Maybe that's why they call it 'Falling in love

Sometimes we must yield control to others and accept our vulnerability so we can be healed.

Somewhere here I want to bring in a learning which has been most rewarding, because it makes me feel so deeply akin to others. I can word it this way. What is most personal is most general. There have been times when in talking with students or staff, or in my writing, I have expressed myself in ways so personal that I have felt I was expressing an attitude which it was probable no one else could understand, because it was so uniquely my own…. In these instances I have almost invariably found that the very feeling which has seemed to me most private, most personal, and hence most incomprehensible by others, has turned out to be an expression for which there is a resonance in many other people. It has led me to believe that what is most personal and unique in each one of us is probably the very element which would, if it were shared or expressed, speak most deeply to others. This has helped me to understand artists and poets as people who have dared to express the unique in themselves.

Strange, she thinks, how vulnerable the back of your neck feels when you listen to silence.

Standing in the ring of fire, the eye of the storm, the vortex of pain and pressure is simultaneously the most vulnerable and most powerful place to be. Here we embody paradox. We stand our ground and surrender completely. Here we know the full power of the Feminine.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, and words – can cut your insides.

Thank God I was hit by a truck. It seems that God was trying to get my attention for years but I was so stubborn it took knocking me square out of my body to see him for myself. Next time I will be way more specific when I ask for help to slow me down.

Sure, you can break a man. Bend his will, even, but be careful with the ones that break easily. Those are the ones you have to keep a close eye on. Those are the ones that play possum and hide in the shadows. Just waiting for their time to strike! That's when you're most vulnerable. When you're surrounded by friends.

The author relates that Mickey Mantle did not expect to play one day and showed up extremely hung over. He was nevertheless called on to pitch and smashed a towering home run to an enthusiastic ovation. He related to his teammates, "Those people don't know how tough that was.

The author says crises tend to reveal the connectivity of systems that had previously been study only in isolation.

The best way to get started on the path to sharing your work is to think about what you want to learn, and make a commitment to learning in front of others.

The Chinese ideograph for forbearance is a heart with a sword dangling over it, another instance of language's brilliant way of showing us something surprising and important fossilized inside the meaning of a word. Vulnerability is built into our hearts, which can be sliced open at any moment by some sudden shift in the arrangements, some pain, some horror, some hurt. We all know and instinctively fear this, so we protect our hearts by covering them against exposure. But this doesn't work. Covering the heart binds and suffocates it until, like a wound that has been kept dressed for too long, the heart starts to fester and becomes fetid. Eventually, without air, the heart is all but killed off, and there's no feeling, no experiencing at all. To practice forbearance is to appreciate and celebrate the heart's vulnerability, and to see that the slicing or piercing of the heart does not require defense; that the heart's vulnerability is a good thing, because wounds can make us more peaceful and more real—if, that is, we are willing to hang on to the leopard of our fear, the serpent of our grief, the boar of our shame without running away or being hurled off. Forbearance is simply holding on steadfastly with whatever it is that unexpectedly arises: not doing anything; not fixing anything (because doing and fixing can be a way to cover up the heart, to leap over the hurt and pain by occupying ourselves with schemes and plans to get rid of it.) Just holding on for hear life. Holding on with what comes is what makes life dear. ...Simply holding on this way may sound passive. Forbearance has a bad reputation in our culture, whose conventional wisdom tells us that we ought to solve problems, fix what's broken, grab what we want, speak out, shake things up, make things happen. And should none of this work out, then we are told we ought to move on, take a new tack, start something else. But this line of thinking only makes sense when we are attempting to gain external satisfaction. It doesn't take into account internal well-being; nor does it engage the deeper questions of who you really are and what makes you truly happy, questions that no one can ignore for long... Insofar as forbearance helps us to embrace transformative energy and allow its magic to work on us... forbearance isn't passive at all. It's a powerfully active spiritual force, (67-70).

The biggest blocker to happiness is "the fear of vulnerability". Happiness cannot enter a caged heart.

The brokenhearted are the bravest among us. They dared to love.

The heart of a woman is the best mirror you can find.

The craft of acting dismantles the realms of private personal space and shows human nature for what it truly is; simple and fragile

The horrible ugliness of this exposure of a sick and guilty heart to the very eye that would gloat over it!

The majority of research I’ve reviewed describes an intense male value on inde-pendence and what appears to be an almost phobic response to dependence. In fact, for many men it’s not even an option to ask for assistance or to admit they “don’t know.” This places tremendous pressure on men to deny their vulnerability and need for information which makes detachment from relationships easier.

The journey of reinvention is one of raw emotions Emerging from dormancy Surprising as a paper cut Overwhelming as a hailstorm One part vulnerability One part rage One part surrender Uncomfortable Unfamiliar Unsure Fearful Alone Damaged Broken And finding a new Self Slowly Different Healing Humble Present Open Longing Free

The only choice we have as we mature is how we inhabit our vulnerability, how we become larger and more courageous and more compassionate through our intimacy with disappearance, our choice is to inhabit vulnerability as generous citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or conversely, as misers and complainers, reluctant and fearful, always at the gates of existence, but never bravely and completely attempting to enter, never wanting to risk ourselves, never walking fully through the door.

Then I made a stupid mistake and looked up at him. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, his face was open and vulnerable in the moonlight. I caught a hint of wonder there as we stared at each other. Slowly, he leaned forward. I caught my breath, a tiny gasp escaping. He stiffened, and his expression shuttered closed, eyes going hard and frosty. [...] 'This is getting old,' he said in a voice that matched his eyes.

Then why did he worry daily that his mistress was about to leave him? The only explanation I can suggest is that for Franz, love was not an extension of public life but its antithesis. It meant a longing to put himself at the mercy of his partner. He who gives himself up like a prisoner of war must give up his weapons as well. And deprived in advance of defense against a possible blow, he cannot help wondering when the blow will fall. That is why I can say that for Franz, love meant the constant expectation of a blow.

The only really good performance is the one where you make yourself vulnerable, while pushing beyond your familiar comfort zone.

There’d never been anyone who could knife him so with a momentary word, and then speak the wound away in the very next moment. If all those little boyhood heartbreaks had been supposed to make him ready for this, Demane wasn’t.

The point was, there'd be nothing to this if you were beautiful and sexy. The point was, in a world where everybody had to look so pretty all the time, this guy wasn't. The monkey wasn't. What they were doing wasn't. The point was, it's not the sex part of pornography that hooked the stupid little boy. It was the confidence. The courage. The complete lack of shame. The comfort and genuine honesty. The up-front-ness of being able to just stand there and tell the world: Yeah, this is how I chose to spend a free afternoon. Posing here with a monkey putting chestnuts up my ass. And I really don't care how I look. Or what you think. So deal with it. He was assaulting the world by assaulting himself.

The problem when you are a strong, capable, self-confident person, is that more often than not, people think that you don't really need things like comfort, reassurance, loyalty and guidance. People are more likely to look at you and say, "She doesn't need this", "She doesn't need that", "She's already all of this and all of that". But then the truth is that most probably, you are a strong, capable, self-confident person because you built yourself brick-by-brick into that person; because you HAD to BECOME that person; because you had determination enough to make yourself into the image that you knew you needed to become. At the heart of many strong, confident people, is a heart most longing of the things that most others simply take for granted.

There is a quiet transformation happening that is moving us from 'turning on each other' to 'turning toward each other.' Without question, that transformation will require shame resilience. If we're willing to dare greatly and risk vulnerability with each other, worthiness has the power to set us free.

There is no weakness in being able to love fully. It takes courage, tenacity, and an emotional intelligence that most people are incapable of.

There is more hope in honest brokenness than in the pretense of false wholeness.

There is no great reward for being emotionally withdrawn, no pity prize for bottling your frustration. No one is coming to congratulate your chronic self-repression. By opening up, maybe you will inconvenience some people. Maybe you will trigger some conflict. Maybe you will be rejected, criticized, judged. Everything comes with a price and everything has its compensation. Authenticity may require pain, but it also opens the doors to joy, creativity, self-respect, empathy. Self-repression, on the other hand, costs you all the beauty of the world in exchange for a prison of comfort. Is it really worth it? Isn't it time to break free?