Connection and Vulnerability

Music moved me...towards you
by Mark Word

I told myself I would not dance.
I was afraid I would make myself foolish.

I told myself I would not prance,
Like that drunk friend of mine, over-smiling.

This time I would not allow the chance
Of vulnerability and the taste of hurt again.

The music started and I caught your glance,
And I saw how it moved you to be just who you are.

My mind took us back--a bonfire and chants,
To my ancient need to touch and be the music.

Music pried open my soul and made my body dance,
Music pried open my heart and inside I found you.



This poem was preparation for this "story telling" video clip (below) on the search for the meaning and value of vulnerability.  What does it means to be "whole-hearted" and vulnerable to you?

I told my son recently that if I were a terrible father he would not mourn my death in the future.  If parents want to spare their children from the pain of bereavement and loss, they should be aloof and avoid being vulnerable to their children or even avoid love altogether! 

The way of love expects hurt, and does not search ways to numb the pain of love -- drugs, food, avoidance.  This is the paradox of life, that those who engage in life expose their hearts and truly live a life worth living, a life of connection.  Do not be surprised by the words of tango -- they are messages of love and the normal hurt of the vulnerable heart.



This post was both a "break" from "The Psychology of Music" and a preparation for the last installment of the series. Tomorrow: "The Psychology of Music, part 3," subtitled:  "The First Dance."  Insights from tango instructors and a short film by a neurological anthropologist, which should put the whole subject together nicely.  ¿Hasta entonces?


Photo credit:

shutterstock.com