This morning I awoke thinking of body armor. Imagine the padded chest protectors used by umpires, or those worn by fencers. These carry on a design idea with ancient origins. In the Middle Ages, thickly padded, quilted material was used to make body armor. It protected the warrior from the blows of early weaponry. Later, similar garments were used under plate metal or chain mail armor. At that point, the quilted vestments protected the body from the metal armor itself.
Body armor, a means to protect oneself from attack.
We all carry armor. For some it is thin, easily penetrated. Others have thick, sturdy armor that lets nothing in. And we all have potential sources of attack. Usually that is emotional rather than physical. Most of us have people in our lives who provide a continuing stream of negative emotion. A co-worker’s tone of voice, gossip, or undermining; a family member’s repeated reminders of mistakes made, or warnings of those yet to be made. Besides things done “to us,” we have loss, worry, hardship of various types. All can take their toll, leaving us damaged and weakened.
To protect ourselves from these ongoing challenges, we need defenses. We build armor over time, but the armor can take different forms. Suspicion and mistrust are two we all know. We’ve all been taught to be careful of strangers. We’ve all been cautioned about sharing too much personal information, especially in the age of identity theft. We hide ourselves from others, careful not to reveal facts or feelings. If they don’t know what hurts us, it’s less likely that they will.
Some of us retreat in other ways. When coping with loss, in particular, we may choose to “turtle,” as another Moose put it recently. Retreating conserves energy and allows it to be used for mourning, and ultimately for recovery.
Masks are used liberally as body armor. We all have masks, partly in the roles we play. Mother, spouse, employee, brother. Other masks are those of personality: funny, patient, kind, verbose, silent. If you think I am funny, must I always be funny? Even when I am in pain? Some put on a happy mask, or a calm mask, pretending that the slings and arrows have done no harm. We hide the wounds, we hide our true selves by presenting a false persona.
And some of us are open. We are open about our pain and about our joy. We tell people when we care about them. It is a vulnerable position to take. The risks are even greater pain, both from the actual blows, and also from humiliation. Must everyone know the arrow’s tearing of flesh? Yes. When you are that open, yes, they will know.
As a former investment manager, I can make an analogy, though. In an efficient market, greater risk also comes with greater opportunity for reward. The downside can be significant, the volatility may be great, but the potential for tremendous joy and love are there as well.
I am open. I see it as a feature, not a flaw. Yes, it has its risks. Still, they are risks I’ll choose to take. I get to choose, and I choose love.
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