Hmmm..
A number of women are coming next Sunday for an In Real Life Bookclub - and we are doing this non-fiction pairing special; The women were invited to read either Becoming by Michelle Obama, or Dare to Lead by Brene Brown. Or Both! Many to most are reading both. I thought it would be a unique look at leadership from two very different but likely aligned perspectives. I figured we would have a really interesting conversation. I bet that we do.
I discovered Dare to Lead, because my friend in Florida who I greatly respect had read it and said it was life changing. Additionally, I had read The Gifts of Imperfection, her debut book years ago. Which I had some mixed to negative feelings about. Another friend was reading Daring Greatly, a precursor to this one, and was taken with it. I went to find my lengthy review of the points that I made about the positive and negatives of The Gifts of Imperfection, and I cannot find it anywhere. Its missing. But I had the feeling, I was feeling some of the same things about Dare to Lead. And I can picture myself in the meeting on Sunday, saying that I got so much more out of how to lead and think about Leadership from Becoming, than from Daring to Lead. Michelle just went out and did it, and this how-to book fell a little flat for me. I'm going to say why, but I have all these feelings about offending the author, who know has taken great pains in both books to talk about her shame journey. And how hard difficult conversations are to hold, but how necessary. But owns that she doesn't like to hear them. I feel a little responsible for her. This is what I found on Goodreads, which was not the entire story, for the Gifts of Imperfection.
"I was given this book by a patient of mine, who thought we might read it together. There are some very special quotes and lines in there, and all the ideas are right on point. I think we both felt, however, that there was something off putting about the writing. I found myself reluctant to even write this review and voice my thoughts, as I am always thoughtful of how the author will read it. First, its not my favorite thing to do, to rag on another psychologist, fighting the good fight out there. Second, this author, Brene Brown is a shame and resilience expert, and has fought her own shame her whole life. What I can say to her, is this: You had some wonderful things to share, and some of the quotes were so extraordinary. Whatever my thoughts about the writing being off putting, or even disagreeing with a thing or two: "Who Cares!" Embrace Yourself! Congratulations. You wrote a great book that will touch a lot of people. Nice Job!"
I find right now, I am feeling a bit more daring. I do think if this book helps you, great! Its really about emotional literacy, my favorite personal and professional phrase. And the connection between owning one's story, and having that help you have the courage to write your own ending to it. Maybe for me it was repetitive or basic, and I indeed wondered, how others were reading it. What was their takeaway. And for my friend in Florida, what about this was life changing? And glad for her and for others, if the book touched and moved. But my sticking point here is not as entailed as my sticking point for her debut book. I think if I am remembering, I felt she had a point in self-compassion and knowing one's limits and giving oneself permission to have imperfection and not be able to reach the goal. But I felt there needs to be a balance, and that there was a way in which she was letting us all of the hook, and encouraging us not to set the bar higher. And my patient agreed with me. I felt it was a little too self-serving to the permission, and less in service to meeting the goal of self-compassionate growth. This one, several books later, felt like it was more of a push to grow. But truth be told, my problem was her. I felt like story after story, she were hearing about her fears, her preoccupations, and how stuck she would get in the shame-judgement cycle. And something about it, instead of how it probably hit a thousand others as authentic empathic vulnerability that we all share, just hit me funny. I found myself feeling like I was a witness to her therapy process - and one of the incredible things about the therapy process, is that you can keep the thoughts, feelings, actions, behaviors that make you feel vulnerable, but just between the two of you, and choose what to share with trusted others and when. I admire a good sense of vulnerability, but I felt like I was swimming in a process I didn't quite want to. Like it was just a bit for me, (Oh I am going to totally offend the author here. I feel like I know her intimately, I and I feel her writhing and kicking, and crying, and taking it to her team and her husband and about a thousand others and writing another book about it).... It was just a bit of, and just a tinge of emotional vomit to me. Like, a little bit whiny - which I am sure she doesn't intend. And I feel, good for her to be putting herself out there - why I am being so judgy? And yet on the other hand, if I am deeply too worried about how she is going to react to and manage my review, even while reading the book, something is coming across that I gather she didn't intend for.
And yet there are some lovely things in it. She had the courage to share, has devoted a lifetime to giving others a certain courage and fearlessness, and ability to take charge in a heart-led authentic vulnerable way. And for that she should be commended. I believe in developing vulnerability, emotional literacy, and in heart led compassionate politics, a term from Becoming that only came out towards the end of it. Compassionate politics. What a novel idea? I maybe just thought for myself, I got that message far more from the style and format of Michelle's book, rather than Brene's. They make a nice pairing though. I look so forward to next Sunday night.
Oh one more thing. She likes the word "rumble". The idea of rumbling with vulnerability, rumbling with a difficult conversation or difficult feedback. Maybe that word will be exactly the right one for many. That it really feels like a rumble, a tussle, like when my three boys in any composition are wrestling on the bed, on the floor, or its a sudden "Big Pile on the Dog." But as a therapist and a person, vulnerability and difficult conversations have never felt like a rumble to me. I think about men and women, who even after many years and closeness, are trying to share something so deep, so personal, so laden with trust and shame and vulnerability, and the courage it takes to finally let something come between us and be shared, feels nothing like a rumble. Its such a tender moment of courage and trust. Its poignant and profound, and incredibly fragile. Its incredibly deep. I'd use the word profound twice. Maybe this is where I found Michelle and Brene to strike me so differently. Brene is more of a show woman, lecturer, bold inviter of process, shine the light on something. Michelle feels like more of an invitation, to think, to feel out, to be quietly led. She has incredible strength in her vulnerability, and she is indeed an inspiration. But her invitation to lead or be led feels much more quietly accessible. I am not being asked to rumble. I am being asked to hold hope. How do I think about my values, and how do I want to live them out - both women indirectly or directly ask me. Who do I want to be, and how do I wish to rumble? So I will end like this. To say thank God there is a Michelle, and a Brene, and an Amy, all of us doing this our own way in the way that is beautiful, strong, and authentic. And touching others, who are each all so different, and need different things to grow. I hope I have done the book, and Brene justice and compassion both in this very honest, vulnerable, rumbling and rambling review.