Connection and Authenticity's Interplay
An Art of Authenticity post on false connections, pirate kitties, foreplay, and wearing your heart on your sleeve in Hawaii
I raised my hand like a schoolgirl. "But I'm not really friends with you am I?"
"I see you every week, often more than once. You've brought me meals and cared for me, for which I am so thankful. Every time something is particularly bad, I ask you for prayer and you will pray! But I need more than that and I believe you do too. I don't even think you know what goes on in my life, what I spend my time on or what concerns me! So how can we really "live life together" when you aren't really aware of what's going on in my life and I'm not sure what's happening in yours? We have to be more personal than this."
I was sincere and yet I hoped I didn't sound ungrateful, spewed out distastefully. The words might have been formed in seconds but they had bubbled underneath the surface for years, despite how much I loved this group of people.
Just like you, I long for connection. Connection demands authenticity. Authenticity exists within connection. They are impossible to separate; I can easily argue which comes first in their interplay.
False Connection
Here's another scenario. I was at a party concluding the summer months. It was balmy, the low sun was dazzling, and color lit up the sky. The event included water to bask in and delicious food to enjoy. I liked the people there, too. But as we sat around together, it felt off. The same old jokes were tossed around, hollow of humor. Then there were the classic complaints about kids, gossip about shared acquaintances, and that was about as deep as we got. I tried to break out of the confines and at least talk about our day jobs, but to no avail. Another woman joined me, catching a glimpse of authenticity, but when we tried to push into it, we were shut down. Despite the laughter, an undercurrent of secrets and sadness ran through the party. That night, I wondered why I even bothered showing up.
As an optimist, I'm always hopeful that something might be different the next time, that I can change the tides of conversation to be meaningful. There is always a chance people will be real. If I persevere, sticking around long enough, trust will be developed or I will someday foster someone's interest. As I talk about frequently at Average Advocate, I value presence. It matters and is often all we can do to show love. But for a genuine connection to happen, it must go both ways. Just because my side of the street is clear doesn't mean the other side hasn't set up traffic blockades. I can't change that.
Humans are pretty good at being together without ever connecting. And it makes sense. We capitalize in weather and platitudes, where there is no depth. When we move from facts to broad opinions, we at least have conversational hooks. However, fear of offending or not belonging often get in the way of connection. Then without softness, no empathy is developed. Acceptance requires honesty. For connection we must be vulnerable, which sounds much scarier than pointing out we must be authentic.
Foreplay
Consider sex. One stark ugly naked body facing another. Or maybe they are beautiful bodies, depending on your genetics and time, money, energy—resources that come with privilege. But gorgeous or not, what matters in the moment is acceptance. Humans define sex as the deepest form of intimacy. But you don't have to have intimacy for pleasure or procreation. However, you do have to be entirely physically vulnerable and be received just as you are to have any meaningful intimate physical connection.
Our lovely souls aren't so different. They must let down their guard, exposed. Taking risks through vulnerability is like the foreplay of connection.
Deep Cries to Deep
If we claim that connection is a two way street, let me tell you right where that boulevard begins. It starts right smack inside of us. In fact, this is a very spiritual type of connection, the unveiling of ourselves—our wants, desires, hopes and dreams. This is our will, heart, mind, body and strength—all of it. I’ll be the first to show up to a party with a personality test in hand, but I am talking about beyond even our motivations and what makes us tick. I’m talking about the unveiling of self that brings us back towards Life.
This type of connection is usually not called a connection at all. Rather, it is referred to as being honest with yourself, or benignly called self-awareness.
As a follower of Jesus, I recognize this an unveiling that happens before and within the omnipresent and omnipotent God of the universe. Which can sound pretty intimidating, especially if you also don’t combine the greatness with goodness. But for as big as God is, he is close to me. Or at least how near as I let him be, letting him expose me and yet accept me where I am. It is part of the deep communion I call prayer and it is connection.
God speaks in the silence of the heart, and we listen. And then we speak to God from the fullness of our heart, and God listens. —Mother Teresa
Pirates of the Fur
Besides ourselves and God, who else do we connect with?
One-eyed cats. In the middle of COVID and before I fell ill, we adopted a feline from Mexico. Queso was a feisty little beast. We were entertained for hours by his antics, and he could put a smile on everyone’s face. (Except that one neighbor who was convinced that the paper-towel roll sized kitty would hurt their two dogs and two kids, refusing to walk by our house ever again.)
I used to think I hated cats—so selfish and all. But it didn’t take long for us to fall in love. Often, right when I needed it, he’d climb into my lap and just purr and rub his tawny tiger forehead against my palm. What blew my mind was that he could meet a need for connection I didn’t even know I had. And although before Queso I understood pets could accept you unconditionally, it was around then that I stopped making (as much) fun of pet parents.
Once we caught my middle son staring at Queso intently for an extended period of time. He observed, “Every time he winks he does it on the same side. I keep waiting for him to switch to his other eye but he doesn’t.” He didn’t get that “one-eyed” always meant the same one eye. Later, my son was convinced Queso’s eye would grow back too. Unsurprisingly, it never happened. Queso stayed the pirate kitty until he tragically ran away into the night on Thanksgiving, only eleven months after we got him.
Queso was just a blip on the cosmic spectrum of how we connect with nature as humans. Maybe it is that we are also part of the grand creation suspended in space and time, but from animal companions, to extravagant biomes and beautiful sunsets on the ocean, there is a consuming interplay we’re drawn into. No wonder research shows that when we connect with nature for only five minutes, anxiety and depression decrease. We are welcomed into the middle of the incomprehensible. In wonder, we know our place and see ourselves for who we are.
And there again is the key for connection—within the vulnerability, honesty, unveiling, self-awareness or whatever you call it—there must be acceptance. We must be welcomed and invited in.
Vulnerability Experiment
Years ago I was continually frustrated with how disconnected I was from my husband. I blamed him. I felt like he sucked at drawing me out making me feel emotionally safe. It might or might not have been true.
One day, I had an awakening. I realized I never really offered myself. Although it made sense that I didn’t, if I wanted the connection I longed for I knew I had to start doing things differently. Awkwardly, I told my spouse that I needed to confess something. He probably thought it was something horrible as I climbed into his lap repentantly and apologized for never choosing vulnerability.
I am pretty sure, confused, he patted my back awkwardly while I sobbed all over him.
After that I made a goal. I would share something vulnerable weekly to my husband for three months. I didn’t tell him. I had proof that he loved me and was committed to me. So why not try this experiment?
This was so long ago, I can’t tell you exactly what happened. But I can say that choosing to proactively be open and vulnerable changed the direction of our marriage. Over the course of time, I went from feeling largely disconnected to feeling like we had something beautiful worth fighting for.
I had thought I was doomed by the sway of my environment to be lonely. But the choice to be connected turned out to be in my hands all along.
From Hawaii, Wearing Your Heart on Your Sleeve
I am convinced humans need connection almost as much as they need air to survive. It is easy to connect with what can’t hurt you—like a pirate cat, sunset, or even naming a hidden desire. But it is a risk to connect with God, others, and sometimes even unveiling the deep things in our souls.
After doing my first stint on a missions/humanitarian immersion experience at age eighteen, I found myself fumbling back at our base in Hawaii upon our return. Living with a team for a couple months in a foreign country was formative to say the least. I felt like shattering as I tried to grapple with goodbyes as we were all about to fly home.
As I mindlessly paid no attention to where I was headed on the tropical campus, I accidentally stumbled upon another team who was preparing to leave for their own outreach experience. They called me over, asking me for my advice because I was so much “older” and “more enlightened.”
I stood in front of them feeling raw and bare, pondering the question for the one piece of wisdom I could bestow on this team of newbies that might empower them the most in the months to come. And, with tears running down my face, I explained to them that they should undoubtedly wear their hearts on their sleeve. I was the example of a happy perfect mess, someone wrecked by grief because my team’s time together was so amazing and now it was done. But that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I gave the best freakin’ spontaneous speech to persuade them that connection would be worth the risk.
And hopefully I’ve persuaded you too that connection is worth it for you also.
Questions on Connection to Consider
I put together some questions that I believe will serve you:
Do you put your energy into fostering false connections or authentic connections?
How can you tell the difference between false connection and the authentic?
Where do you connect most frequently (here I talked about God, yourself, nature, and people)?
What would your life look like if you took the chance to connect more in other areas, too?
Even if you aren’t feeling welcomed or invited to connect, what clues can you have that you might be accepted anyway?
Where do you have influence to develop connections where you previously assumed it was out of your control?
What risks and experiments are you willing to take to create deeper connections in your life?
***I want to remind you that this article on connection must be read within its limited context. It doesn’t include a guide to help you connect safely. If you have suffered abuse in relationships where you hoped for connection, you might feel triggered or more guarded. I am sorry that happened to you and it is okay that you feel this way. This article is only meant to prompt us to think about being more authentic as we connect. There are also many other aspects that help us live authentically.***