johnmaconline

Smart people have been debating whether we have free will for a long time.

And make no mistake, this is a debate among the smartest of people. This is not the smart people versus the dumb people. Nor is it a debate strictly among the religious and the anti-religious.

One view is that we are just biochemical machines.

Which means that we don’t have free will. Our biochemistry determines the outcome. Given the same input and conditions, we’d make the same choice every time. We’re deterministic, like the software applications that I work on every day.

Another view is we have something beyond our biochemistry that aids the decision process.

For the sake of terminology, let’s call that a soul. The soul provides a random factor. Given the same input and conditions, we might not make the same choice every time.

Regardless, we must live as if we have free will.

What choice do we have?

“Mindfully practicing authenticity during our most soul-searching struggles is how we invite grace, joy, and gratitude into our lives.”

Brene Brown, “The Gifts of Imperfection”

There’s a famous adage in the marketing and sales world:

“The customer doesn’t need a drill. They need a hole.”

The purpose behind this statement is explanatory. First, understand your customer’s true desire or need. And then, focus your message on meeting that desire or need. Your message should hook into your customer’s emotional state about that desire.

If you’re selling a drill, talk about the hole, not the drill. 

Why do we even care about authenticity? Why are we searching for our authentic selves? Why does it matter?

Because our ultimate desire, the hole we’re trying to create (fill, maybe?), is to invite grace, joy, and gratitude into our lives. No matter who you are and your personal history, you’ve experienced these emotions. Even those who might not use those exact terms or deep down don’t feel worthy (you are, though, you are). We all have at least some experience and are on a journey to reclaim. 

Authenticity is the method and the path.

Authenticity isn’t an excuse for knee-jerk reactions, or blind tribe loyalty, or status claiming. Nor is it a destination. The authentic you doesn’t exist as an endpoint but as an asymptote. 

And convergence toward that asymptote requires practice. 

Authenticity demands Wholehearted living and loving – even when it’s hard, even when we’re wrestling with the shame and fear of not being good enough, and especially when the joy is so intense that we’re afraid to let ourselves feel it.

– Brene Brown, “The Gifts of Imperfection”

Cynical. Jaded. Guarded. “That’s how they get ya.”

These are protection mechanisms. Walls we learn — I’ve learned — to build so that we can handle the emotional roller coaster of life.

I’ve been building up these walls since childhood. Starting with the Locker Incident on my first day of 6th grade, continuing through my teenage years, and well into my mid-40’s, I felt an intense shame of not being good enough. Rejection. Layoffs. Cancellations. Failures. 

My reaction had always been to build more armor. To throw up more guards, lean into cynicism. Always be wary about getting got.

And all that did was pull me farther away from wholehearted living and loving. Always running in the opposite direction of the fear.

I’m now on a different path. A tough path. An uncomfortable path. A path I sometimes lose. But a path that feels better in my core. 

It’s a path of leaning into and airing the shame. A path of walking towards fear while recognizing that eliminating fear is impossible, but operating in the face of it is not. A path of allowing intense joy to overwhelm me. 

A path towards authenticity. 

Choosing authenticity means:

• nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe we are strong enough.

– Brene Brown, “The Gifts of Imperfection”

I describe myself as an extreme introvert. 

Some people, especially in my professional life, are surprised when I say that because I’m good at playing an extrovert on TV. “Extreme introvert” invokes images of social anxiety, solitary life in the wilderness, and an outsider — an aversion to connection and belonging.  

I certainly have felt that way at times. I’ve caught myself romanticizing about a simple life in the wilderness. Off the grid. Outside of the culture. I resonate on some level with the stories of people like Chris McCandless, Henry Thoreau, and even Ted Kaczynski.

But I’ve also found that my connections with others are the most significant and satisfying aspects of my life. My wife, kids, family, friends, church, and professional connections provide a fulfillment that could only come from a healthy sense of belonging.

In some very concrete ways, these connections describe my authentic self. They exist because I’ve nurtured them, and I nurture them because they form the foundation of how I see myself. 

And when those connections shake, even if just a little bit, my ship starts to list. My belief wavers. My sense of who I am becomes foggy. 

In those moments, the only thing that can right the ship is the recommitment to those to whom I belong. To once again recognize that I’ll find authenticity through nurturing connections. 

Choosing authenticity means:

• exercising the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle; and

– Brene Brown, “The Gifts of Imperfection”

I live in one of those little communities that exist all over America. The kind of place where a measurable portion of the 110 kids in the graduating class marry their high school sweetheart and buy a house just over the hill from their parents. The High School yearbooks serve as a public display of their family tree. They’re the fire company, run the Fair, and serve passionately on the school board. 

A friend from one of these families said to me once, “Sometimes I wish I’d moved away because everybody still thinks of me as the 17-year-old me. I don’t like the 17-year-old me. I never did. Here I am in my mid-40’s, but I can’t escape that idiot.”

I hear that. It’s exactly why I moved away.

Labeling. We all do it, and we all suffer from it. 

“Oh, you’re one of those…”

When we label, we miss the reason. And the reason is everything. The reason is the strength and struggle. Those strengths and struggles follow directly from our personal history — what we have experienced, who we have experienced, and where we have experienced. 

If there’s one aspect of authenticity that will fix the ills of our society, it’s this one. Empathy.

Choosing authenticity means:

• cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable

– Brene Brown, “The Gifts of Imperfection“

Imperfect and vulnerable.

Which sixth grader wants to be seen as childish, awkward, or uncool?
Which husband wants to be seen as untrustworthy or not desirable?
Which father wants to be seen as incompetent?
Which employee wants to be seen as useless or part of the problem?
Which leader wants to be seen unsure?
Which middle-aged man wants to be seen as past their prime?

Imperfect and vulnerable.

Two things I’ve been fighting against across the arc of my life because I feel the gap between who I am and who I desire to be. And who in their right mind desires to be imperfect or vulnerable? Why would I even seek out the courage to be either?

But could it be that imperfect and vulnerable aren’t the targets of that gap, but the process by which I close it? Could I scratch and claw closer to authenticity through imperfection and vulnerability? 

Once we understand the difference between results and process, we can begin to see a glimpse of our authentic selves. 

And that process of publicly airing my imperfection and vulnerability will indeed require the cultivation of courage.