Being Vulnerable

January 17, 2014

Earlier this week, if you follow me on Facebook, you saw that I hurt my foot. I actually walked into the couch during my typical morning family routine. I was rushing and the couch surely won. At first, I felt no pain. This was how I knew that I had done a doozy on my foot. Then seconds later the pain flooded in. It was horrific! I yelped and knew that this was not your average stubbed toe.

I hobbled throughout my morning duties and errands. I went grocery shopping. Strangers held doors for me, even though I took forever to move ten feet. I received compassionate looks. Folks helped me load my groceries into the car. I went to the kids’ school. Everyone asked what had happened and if I was okay, even parents I had not met.

After a night of restless sleep, waking up to more bruising of my toe and foot, realizing that it hurt worse, and that I still had to walk on my heel, I decided that I needed to visit the doctor. People helped. My insurance referral took mere minutes instead of days. The podiatrist squeezed me in.  He felt the toe was broken and perhaps the foot too. I needed an x-ray. I drove over to the hospital. They put me in a wheelchair to head to radiology. A man, no younger than 85 years old, wheeled me down to the department. I felt a wee embarrassed, but the walk was quite far. After a few hours, I got the results-nothing was broken. Thank goodness.

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I came to a realization. This week, I showed my vulnerability. I had no choice. I was wounded. The amount of compassion and kindness has been inspiring and I am awestruck. The world is still filled with so much good. Good people surround us. Vulnerable and hurt people surround us too. Sometimes their “boo boos” are on the outside, but most carry them quietly and secretly inside. Sometimes, we need to share our vulnerability and allow others to help us despite our egos, self-confidence, and sometimes embarrassment.

This is how we differ from chickens. Vulnerable chickens are usually abandoned by the flock once chickens realize that the chicken that holds the “boo boo” could potentially make the flock vulnerable to attacks, illness and so forth. I think this is why the chickens keep their issues hidden so well until they are incredibly sick. It is completely instinctual. Yet, this is where we should differ. Our instincts should tell us differently. It is important to care for others, reach out, check-in, and be helpful-always. This week, I do believe that a little bit of heavenly light shone upon my vulnerability. We need to be those shining beacons to those around us. We also need to realize the importance of taking a moment to share kindness and compassion with complete strangers. We might just be the start to heal their invisible “boo boos”.

Photo Credit: Tilly’s Nest


Author/Blogger/Freelancer-Sharing adventures with backyard chickens, beekeeping, gardening, crafting, cooking and more.



6 thoughts on “Being Vulnerable”

  1. I came upon your blog for the first time this evening. Your bio suggests that you & your family are in the midst of a great adventure. My wife & I are retired and have moved to a community of some 250 people on the west coast of Canada. Like you, we enjoy chickens, although we only have 3. 2 are named Cleopatra, because we can't tell them apart, and one is named "Miss Lonely Hearts", because she is the odd girl out.

    Your hurting toe has given you a significant insight about people, compassion, etc. Your account of it is inspiring.

    • Thank you so much and welcome! I'm so glad you found the blog. I write a lot from the heart, stories and lessons that I discover along the way. The west coast of Canada sounds wonderful. Love that you have two chickens named Cleopatra! What a fun idea. I'll have to keep that in mind 🙂 I hope you will come again. Miss Lonely Hearts sounds a bit like my Fifi. Here is a post you might enjoy about her:


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About me

Sharing an inspired life from the New England seaside. Chickens, Bees, Gardens, Art and Yummy Goodness.