Hooray for Independence

I don't know if any of y'all noticed, but Friday night, our family set off a few amazing fireworks.

July 4, American Independence Day.

A few days before, our family had been at our local community's even more amazing Canada Day fireworks. Our tradition in the last eight years since we've lived here is to drive half a mile down the road in our truck, park close to the baseball diamonds with all the rest of our patriotic neighbours and sit in the back of the truck eating sunflower seeds and trying to spot fireflies while we wait for the fireworks to begin. Usually the national anthem gets sung. We are very much a Canadian family.

But this year, my oldest son asked for a few family fireworks in celebration of Independence Day. My son, our own resident American. Something almost as foreign to me as his citizenship is my son's self-confidence. There are certain members of this family, who shall remain nameless, who are much more comfortable hiding their differences from the general population, or at least sweeping them under the rug when company comes. But not my son. He is pleased that his differences – and not just his citizenship - set him apart; he requests that a celebration be held in their honour. I really admire that in him. And I could take a page from his book.

The book I am currently reading is Daring Greatly, by the shame- and vulnerability-researcher, Brené Brown. In her book, she notes how people want to see vulnerability and appreciate that authenticity in other people, are drawn to those people who seem more “real,” but are very reluctant to demonstrate that same vulnerability in themselves. Too often in our culture, we are shamed for our differences; it is easier to maintain order when everyone is the same. Brown says, “As I look back on what I've learned about shame, gender, and worthiness, the greatest lesson is this: If we're going to find our way out of shame and back to each other, vulnerability is the path and courage is the light. To set down those lists of what we're supposed to be is brave. To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly” (p. 110).

I know how to do really fearful, but I'm not so great at fearlessly real. I have spent a certain amount of my life putting effort and energy into fulfilling real or perceived expectations of other people or systems and following the list of what I'm “supposed to be.” I want to do a bit of exploration this summer to “set down those lists” and (re-) discover who I really am, what I really like, which values I aspire to and which I actually live by – and perhaps do some work at getting those two to line up. Kind of makes me sound like I'm 14 again.

So, some fireworks to kick off the summer. Hooray for independence and celebrating becoming real.