I might add a thought here, Joe. I wouldn’t so much dismiss power as transmute its definition.

Here’s what I mean: yesterday morning I read a heart rending account my a man in the midst of a divorce, stuck for now in the prison of his house in SoCal because of the virus.

The potency of his vulnerability was incredible. I wrote an article in response, and it almost moved him to tears.

Most would consider me a very, very powerful woman, because of the nature of the work I do and how I live (epic adventure travel albeit I am grounded for now).

Yet my greater, deeper power is to be moved by the honesty of those who speak to the monsters within, our doubts, our fears and hurts, for I have experienced all those things. My ability to tap into that to feel empathy, to offer love and support, to hear those around me in their pain make me immensely powerful.

That someone can express their pain, without trying to drag others through the mud, but simply speak their truth, is a statement of strength. In our society, we don’t honor that kind of power. That’s seen as being “such a fucking GIRL,” a kindergarten insult which underscores our distaste for emotional expression as a sign of weakness.

I beg to differ. Weakness is our inability to embrace the potency of our emotions, the authenticity of our pain, the great sweeping horizons available to us through the great range of feelings. We want to believe that power equals control, when in some ways, just the opposite is true.

Thanks for your piece.