Buckle your seat belts, kids. This is going to be a doozy.

If true, deep, raw vulnerability makes you queasy, walk away now. It's okay. I understand. Really, I do.

This post was inspired by this video:

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

And this one:

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame.html

As soon as you have time, and really they're not that long (only 20 minutes each), watch them. Both of them. Soak them in.

Truth is, I had to be told, prodded, reminded about these videos three times before I actually watched them. First, Ryan told me about them about a year ago when my USS (Ultimate Sh** Storm) first hit. Then, my sweet friend Beth Graybill texted me about them around that same time. Then, just this morning, after asking a few of my trusted female soul mates for prayer, my brave, loving, fierce-in-the-ways-that-matter friend Paige Flory texted me about them, specifically the second video. She had no idea that Ryan or Beth had told me about them previously. Okay God, I got it this time. It only took three knocks before I answered the door.

I've been in bed all morning. Well, actually I got up, woke the boys for school, woke Ryan so he could drive the boys to school, started packing lunches and then all you-know-what broke loose. Truth is, parenting is hard. Really hard. And this morning, my fears, shame and weaknesses won. I threw the comb across the kitchen in the middle of the getting-ready-for-school routine, marched up to my room, flopped facedown on my bed and wept like an absolute maniac. And stayed in bed. For hours. Now I'm on the couch with my laptop. Still in my PJ's. Still raw and weary and puffy-eyed.

I'm not even really sure where to start. I want to de-clutter my house but I think I should start with my soul. But there I go, "shoulding" all over myself again. How, exactly, does one go about de-cluttering their soul?

I just want to be heard and known and understood. I don't want to be judged. I want to be loved with the purest of loves. The thing is, I'm having a hard time accepting love right now. I feel gross and bruised and misunderstood and doubtful and lazy and weak and ashamed.

So I'm just going to sit in it for a while. Because honestly, not letting myself truly feel these things and stuffing them is what contributed to my USS in the first place.

Thanks for stopping by.

Cindy