The Quitter...The Tale of When "I Quit" Is The Best Answer



My Mom Never Quits!

Growing up in my household we were taught to never quit, keep going, suffer through until your perseverance paid off and you came out on top. When someone would whine and sulk themselves into a quitter attitude, we'd remind the pouter, "You're a Debee don't quit, it's not in our genes."

Now I'm sure the phrase, "Never, say never," has been used in households across America in the same manner as "never quit," but there is a time when one should throw in the towel, give up and call it quits. And even though a Debee never quits, this one time it was necessary, in fact if it wasn't done I dare say, would have been detrimental...   The following true story will tell you why...

My mother is the picture of a model worker, prompt, ethical, always ready to go the extra mile to please. She takes personal pride in a job well done. She started her own cleaning business that grew by word of mouth and had a waiting list because her reputation was highly regarded.

One day Mary called to inquire about my mother's availability and since another client either moved or passed away a spot was open for a new client so my mother entertained the call. Now Mary was a nurse and being a nurse she had high standards concerning the cleanliness of her home. She lived under the "white glove" standard and expected none less from the service provided by my mother. This staunch standard didn't cause my mothers eye to bat, that was what her business was built on in the first place.

The first few months went by with ease and with glorious compliments on a job well done. THEN an odd phone message set the downward spiral to those infamous words we all have wished to say at one time in our life or another.... "I QUIT!"

The message started with a higher than thou tone and when you hear that you know you are in for a harangue, so you get your eyes set for some rolling, cock your head to the side with your arm on your hip and get ready to take it.

Of course the preliminary sentence is a bunch of 'blah, blah's', you want the discomfort out of the way so you wait patiently until the point is made. Mary's started off with a bunch of, "I know, because" statements proving she is the end all of the argument before one is even made then finally she gets to the point of the call, her dissatisfaction.

Now, do not get me wrong, customer service requires you listen to complaints, work them out and please your customer any way you can, it is good business, (you knew there had to be a but) BUT what do you do with the customer that is not going to be pleased until your groveling, licking their toes, crying in admittance that they are right and you are so wrong you should stay at your lowly level FOREVER? The customer from hell, in this case Grendel's Dam incarnate needs to be shown the other shoe of customer service, not the one that says, "the customer is always right" the one that says, "don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Back to the call: Grendel's Dam, oops I mean Mary called to voice her utter disgust in finding a single pubic hair on the floor of the bathroom. Obviously this forensic evidence found at the end of the day by "white glove" Mary gave her reason to come to the conclusion my mother was slacking on the job, therefore, presenting her the right to berate and belittle without first giving benefit of the doubt.

Of course my mothers was beside herself. Being the hardworking, pleasing person she is she re-hashed the cleaning of Mary's house over and over trying the remember if she could have over looked that particular bathroom. No, she did that bathroom and to utter perfection, how could have that absurd pubic hair made its way to the floor so visually front and center as to catch Mary's irrate attention?

The answer came to my mom, it was Mary's husband, he arrived home as she was leaving and mentioned getting cleaned up before Mary got home. She called to explain the scenario and clear the lines so life could go on. It was my mother giving the benefit of the doubt and extending the friendly hand of customer service to make everyone happy, and get back to the normal working environment. Phew, there is an end in site to this ridiculous situation.

My mother gets Mary on the phone and explains what took place but do you think Grendal's Dam has a smidgen of humility. No, monster women don't understand the concept. Instead it was denial on Mary's part, how dare he do his human natural function before I get home from work, "No, it has to be YOUR pubic hair." WHAT? Where was the husband, ask him yourself?  Oh, he went A-WOL, I would too if Grendal's Dam was my wife.

By this time you should know what my mother had to do, the "other" foot of customer service needed to be put on, laced up and used to its full extent. The way my mother used that shoe was gracious and I remember beaming with pride as I heard the words beautifully roll out of her mouth to finalize this lethal customers transaction.... " I QUIT!"

My Mother is still the one who came out on top!

Update: Susan Debee now owns a deli in Downtown Denver with her husband John and their customers love them.

Another De'Javu Article From The Past...Haunting Me in Reality

Before you read this article I wrote over two years ago click these links and read the recent ways the federal government is exerting it's parasitic control over the people.

This one is about a farmer who grew too much on his land so the government fined him

 

This one is about not being able to build a sand castle on the beach???? YES, it's real and doesn't make sense to me.....

It's not so subtle as years past....The FEDS are rearing their ugly head deeper in the private sector and they keep on infesting as a parasite naturally does.....

Patriots in Action

The Feudal Bully Among Us

Or

Why I Hate the IRS

By: Anonymous Taxpayer

If you are eating a meal while reading this, take your fingers and pull that masticated ball of food out of your mouth and throw it in the trash. You’ll begin to understand the first demonstration behind how the IRS fleeces families across America every paycheck.

You may think the feudal picture of the tax collector knocking on the door of the peasant tenants demanding an absurd amount of money a far gone picture of histories past or a story from a tale that we shake our heads at and gullibly think, “I’m glad I didn’t live back in those days.” Well pull the wool off those eyes folks, there is no difference. In this present time the landlord has become the IRS with better lawyers and more power than the feudal kind and the tenants have let it happen. What a shame!

Instead of burly buffoons that threaten beating or eviction from land and home for not paying their tax the IRS has refined this pay or else technique with interest penalties, late filing penalties, seizure of property, invading house and business and jail. I ask these questions. Is it right; is it a good thing to take a cut from the primary source that keeps shelter over our head, food on the table and clothes on our back? In context of all the other taxes we pay, is this not double taxation when we already pay sales tax on our food and clothes and property tax for our homes and land? How did we give this power to the government, to take from the source that supports our very basis for living? When is enough, ENOUGH? Enough will never be enough until the citizens of this country stand up to the bully and say no more stealing my milk money!

Let me tell a tale to emphasize my point.

A hardworking potato farmer who put in very long hours has a good day selling his wares. A generous Friar has given him a little extra for his product out of the kindness of his heart. In his small good fortune the potato farmer is happy because he can now afford to buy his daughter a very much needed pair of shoes. He buys the shoes, a luxury, since he lives on the lessons of frugality. He even feels guilty about this purchase even though it is a necessity of life. Months pass and a tax nobleman is sent to his home demanding payment.

“For what do I owe, I’ve always paid and on time?” replied the potato farmer.

“It says here the Friar gave you extra. You did not tell us this minor detail and it has been two months, so with added interest you owe the equivalent of your potato cart.” stated the tax nobleman.

The potato farmer was dumbfounded. A good days work, a chance to provide for his family and he must pay the price of a cart, twice what it costs for a pair of shoes. The potato farmer was sick to his stomach, “How can I pay for this?”

And then he had a thought. An occurrence came to his memory, one that might save him from this situation.

“Dear nobleman,” he said, “I was traveling to the next town to sell my produce when a nobleman of the state, not unlike yourself ran into my cart spilling my goods in the river. In order to make up for this he gave me a piece of paper stating I could reduce my tax. Here it is.”

The tax noble man reads the paper and says, “This has an expiration date. You should have shown this to your tax man months ago. It’s no good now.”

The potato farmer asked, ‘How can this be, you can go back in the past and change things as long as it’s in your favor. I forget an item that can help me; I’m the one that loses?”

The nobleman replied, “It’s the law.”

So if you paid attention, the potato farmer paid a cart’s price for a pair of shoes, the friar told on the potato farmer-unintentionally making his good deed a rotten potato in the farmer’s eyes and the tax nobleman was going to get his money no matter what.

I give this reason why we let this bully strong arm our income. It started as a great idea, put money away for retirement and health issues and pull from the pot once you make it to a certain age. We did it to help ward off another Depression, to plan ahead, to pay for War Debt. Our mistake was giving away our power. Any great idea that has money attached to it needs restrictions when it comes to government control. The IRS should have been a temporary solution. The citizens sacrificed to help out their country by agreeing to this wallet tax and now the government being used to this inflow of money will not let it go without a fight and will keep it at a standard norm by using bully techniques to the highest degree.

Bullies find weakness and exploit it for their advantages. Many times the bully is so good at sniffing out the weakness and loves the rewards of the advantages so much he creates opportunities to ensure the rewards keep coming. This is proven by the fear sown among the citizens that if they do not follow the bully’s wishes their life will be made difficult along with potential freedom lost. You don’t pay, you go to jail for tax evasion. You make an error- legit or not they send the audit bullies.

A little extreme, on the contrary, I believe this rendition is right on. I know there is a feudal bully among us by the fear I feel when I write these words. If I circulate these thoughts will they audit my records just to push their weight and let me know they’re watching? Dare I put my real name on this paper lest I bring more attention to myself then wanted. Mind you, I am not a conspiracy theorist, schizophrenic, lobbyist or victim. I am your average citizen who is writing from what she sees and feels. In my quick research, I found this eye opening quote.

“Does the IRS cover up occurrences of abuse? The answer is yes! If the true number of incidences of tax payer abuse were ever known, the public would be appalled. If the public also ever knew the number of abuses “covered up” by the IRS there would be a tax revolt.” - wikipedia

I will end this Ninety-Five Theses inspired paper with a quote to spur on a needed revolution.

“All that is required for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing.”

Edward Burke

Update: September 2010
IT"S HIGH TIME AMERICANS WAKE UP AND TAKE OUR COUNTRY BACK!

Note: I'm not right all the time but every once in a while my gut instinct needs some attention.

Tea Party Demonstration Austin 2009

Twelve Years, September 12, 2010

Nathan and Chandra Brown

Did I tell you what he did?
Usually when women say that it's a precursor for a way to complain about their husbands to their friends. Well, I am gonna tell you about how he made me feel like Princess Ann played by Audrey Hepburn in the movie Roman Holiday. He let his romantic creative juices flow and I was the benefactor.

This post is dedicated to Nathan and is my thank you to him for being the man that he is.....

Between the two of us, we forget dates like forgetting the important date needed to answer a history quiz. We have to use our math skills and count backward or forward to figure out how old we are. We are hazy on what year it really was that we got married and have to look it up in our photobook. Numbers just seem to elude us, but we are fine with that, we feel comfortable enough with each other that we are just happy to be together, counting years doesn't really matter. Growing older this method will definetly help us. I'll be able to say I'm 65 when maybe I'm really 70. I wish this number method applied to bank acounts.

Recently, my husband informed me he had our anniversary all taken care of. I asked if I needed to get a babysitter and he said, "No".  That got me wondering what he had up his sleeve. A few weeks passed and our anniversary was drawing near, I was busy and almost forgot about the up coming event,  when  September 11th and the news memorializing the twin towers came to my rescue reminding me that the next day was our anniversary. I almost blew it, usually that is the man's motif. Nathan gave a hint of what he planned that night by letting Alex know she was going to have a sleep over, my clue for knowing we were going on a weekend getaway. I was totally impressed, especially since we have no family living near us in Texas. He went the extra mile and asked our dear, sweet neighbor if Alex could spend the night, and boy was she excited for extra time playing with friends.

The next day we dropped Alex off with extra instructions to mind her manners and jumped on the Harley for an exhilarating road trip to Fredericksburg, Texas. (I was inspired so I wrote an article about it, click the word to read)  We ate at Wheeler's and strolled the town, bought a beer at The Fredericksburg Brewery and chatted about current things. Then he surprised me by taking me to The Hangar Hotel, a place I've loved and visited and always wanted to stay. I have had a love affair with the 40's era and airplanes since I was in high school and this hotel has both.  We ate dinner at the Auslander and had authentic German weinerschnitzel and drinks at the Officer's Club where they had a soloist playing an acoustic guitar. We caught up on things you don't normally get to talk about. We took our time at the Airport Diner for breakfast and watched countless airplanes and even a private jet land and taxi.

It may not seem like much but to a couple that hasn't been on a weekend getaway alone since 2004, it meant the world! Those little steps that were actually big planning to make sure it worked helped me see how much my husband cares for me. We celebrated our twelfth year and I dream and hope for twelve + + + + more.

Nathan, I LOVE YOU, and I still want the world to know just as I did in the puppy love days when we first met....

Not so "Funny" Note: The sign says, "I slept like a baby at the hangar hotel....Well, somehow that wasn't in the cards for us, The county fair (next to the hotel) decided to have live music starting @ 10 o'clock and last til' 12 o'clock....Why is it when I'm not at a concert the music lasts longer than is should?
So we stayed up watching the golf channel...actually pretty interesting when you are paying attention! LOL



Having a Drink at the Beirgarten


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One of Our Favorite Planes

Nathan was in car heaven....

The annual Boxstober Fest is held

at the Hangar Hotel and we

happened to be there to see the cars!  

The car showed is $120,000 Porsche...



How To Strip And Paint Your Bathroom Vanity

Since I am a  home stager for real estate and run into many a home that needs an update but not a total re-do, I thought I'd lend a helping hand by showing how easy it is to give that bathroom a fresh feel. Paint is your best friend when trying to change a look or make your home keep up with the times.Most of the homes in my neighborhood are anywhere from 15-20 years old and have the original oak cabinets. They do the job, but after a while they just start feeling 80ish.
The Do-It-Yourself process can save money in this economy and also give you a sense of pride in saying, "I did that!" With a little time, patience and effort you can achieve a better atmosphere that is pleasing to the eye and the wallet.

Preparation Process/Original Oak Cabinets

TOOLS NEEDED
Drop cloth
Stripper/Paint brush
Scraper/Screw Driver
Trash Can/Cloth (old Rags)
Paper Towels/Plastic sandwich bag
Mineral Spirits
Primer (white/grey depending on color chosen)
Sand Paper (100-120 grit)
Paint



STEP 1:
Keep a well ventilated area by opening the windows.
Remove all the items from cabinets.
Remove the doors from the cabinet face and remove the
hinges, store them in a plastic bag for safe keeping.
Remove the drawers. Arrange Drop cloth accordingly.
Remember the insides of the cabinet as well.
Apply stripper, just about any full strength stripper will
work, they have improved over the years and work beautifully.
You can also opt to sand the wood. Either way, the goal is to
remove all the sheen and/or finish, so the new paint can adhere.
I start with the cabinet face frame and then work towards the doors
and drawers.
Allow proper sit time if using stripper (directions on back of product)
and scrape the excess finish off. Have a paper towel handy to help keep
the scraper clean and place in trash can. Allow time for cabinet surfaces to
dry and look for spots that may have been missed by the scraping process.
Sand these areas to dull look and feel.
                                                                                  

               

Stripped Cabinet, Begin Priming

STEP 2:

Prime the cabinets. One coat usually all that is needed.

A white primer is best for light colors. A grey primer is

best for dark colors. (Although I used a white primer

for a Chocolate Brown color-I used what I had for

economic purposes, and it turned out fine)

After the primer has dried, a quick sanding to knock down the

nubs for a smooth surface is needed. Wipe the surfaces with clean, dry cloth.

STEP 3:

Apply First coat of color. I chose a water-based satin,enamel. Oil is best but if you are not experienced in painting it can leave brush marks and is a clean up nightmare. Enamel hardens and provides a good cleanable surface. I only had to buy a quart and had some left over for later touch-ups. I also applied 2 coats for best coverage.

Let paint dry fully between coats. I recommend waiting 12-24 hours before putting the cabinet drawers and doors back on.

STEP: 4

VOILA!

Enjoy the new look.

For added fun you can install door pull or knob hardware

(*This picture sadly doesn't do the final work justice)

When all was finished, I spent around $45.00

(my costs were for mineral spirits, paint,drop cloth, and stripper)

NEXT: How to improve and update lighting. Hollywood lights are a NO! NO!

8' Above Sea Level

Camping on Mustang Island, Texas/ September 2010

A Little History: The earliest known inhabitants of Mustang Island were Karankawa Indians, known for their fierceness and cannibalism. The Karankawas were a hunter-gatherer people, and depended heavily on shellfish and mussels for food. Encountered first by Spanish explorers, the Karankawas survived in the region until the 19th century. The island was first named "Wild Horse Island," then "Mustang," because of the wild horses, called "Mestenos," brought to the island by the Spaniards in the 1800s.

Nathan and Alex Surfing

I find it amusing this islands height above sea level is slightly taller than a man, yet it has weathered storms and hurricanes and is still there. One fun historic fact about the island is the storm that sunk Spanish ships in 1553,quickly capsizing three vessels and displacing or wrecking thirteen others, some of which had treasure on board.

This years camping trip included fun in the sun with family and friends and a few challenges to break us in to outdoor life.

We got camp set-up and the kids played in the sand and waves all day, we did better this year with the constant multiple applications of sunscreen and only had a few spots that got sunburned. We were doing pretty good at our usual sitting, bumming and being plain lazy on the beach. The kids chased and caught crabs, they surfed and made it to the standing position.  We ate like kings, Smoked Ribs with Homemade bean chili, S'Mores roasted over the fire pit, a full breakfast; bacon, eggs, potatoes and French pressed coffee. Living it up gourmet style on the beach. We should have had a clam bake the way we were going.  The it started to get a little windy. Nothing we couldn't handle and it did help the surfing, but darn it after a while, the peristent blowing gets on your nerves. It kicks up the sand and of course, in our laxidaisical coma we forgot to zip tent doors, or close truck tail gates which house ALL your belongings. Dinner became a fight to keep sand out of the cooking zone and utensils from flying off into the dunes. We even spotted a water funnel in the not so far off clouds and were relieved when it dissipated.  Then our sweet friends who showed up that day after a 4 hour trip and just barely finished setting up camp had to leave because their youngest had severe diaper rash. Poor baby! The wind picked up and was blowing tents into a concave, so we improvised by taking off the topper to let airflow help make the tent more stable, it worked until midnight when it started to rain and soak us. So we scrambled in the wind and rain to put the tent topper back on while the dog slips out the door and I'm yelling, "Odie, come here!" as I wake up the campers next to us.  We weather it (LITERALLY) through the night. In the morning we notice the storm surge took out the road leaving seaweed at the tires of our vehicle. We start packing up camp in a downpour that not only soaks everything but adheres half the beach to whatever is wet, which is EVERYTHING! Oh ya, did I forget to mention Nathan's truck was stuck in the sand too, (for the second time) adding to the mess. Well I'm here writing this so that tells ya we made it out. The first time the ranger pulled the truck out, the second time we were lucky, the wet sand was a benefit, it gave enough traction to get us out of there. Oh ya and did I mention we were searching for our camping campanions lost truck keys...talk about a needle in a haystack. No, we didn't leave them in high water...they were able to avert several mini heart attacks and a lot of financial stress and found their keys hiding from them in a very conspicuous spot in the tent.

Think it's over, not yet! We get home and are so plumb tired we do the bare minimum; take the cooler out and put away still usable food and throw some clothes in the laundry. We catch up on some rest and try to ignore the mountian of mess we know we have to take care of later, thinking tomorrow will be a better day to think about it. Well, that storm followed us up to Austin and you guessed it the forecast shows rain for the next 2 days. I thought about leaving the mess for a sunnier day but after opening the tailgate and smelling the stench of saltwater, sand, plastic, and smoke, did I mention sand already? I couldn't leave the mess in there. So I haul a truck load of debris, onto the driveway in sheets of rain, grab the hose and go nutty like a fireman on a five alarm fire and spray every last thing down. (Yes, I had to set the tent back up to get it clean) A few neighbors drove by and a police car...I'm sure they were wondering what the lady that looked like a drowned cat was doing in the middle of a thunderstorm breaking all water conservation rules was up to. I really thought the cop was going to stop and write me a ticket just for the absurdity of it all.

I am proud to say there is a garage full of clean camping items and I conquered this camping trip. The  pestering wind and gritty sand could have had a bad influence on our attitudes but I am happy to say we all worked together and had a GREAT time despite it all.

Let's See What's In Store For Next Year!.......We are still here....

One Way, But You Have to Choose

Photo Borrowed From Atticus @ Photobucket

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference

                                                           ...Robert Frost

No words are better than Frost's for describing times in our lives when we have to make a decision. For those who know my writing, this should not come as a surprise that I find great inspiration in this poem and can relate it to following God. My journey started when I was a young child of six, I wanted to understand what this Jesus talk was about and crawled into my mom's lap and asked that she help me get Him in my heart....I still remember that day vividly and my thirst for wanting to know Him was extremely strong. I grew up in a traditional baptist church, bounced around to evangelical, non-denominational church, I made my rounds...I was always searching, gaining tid-bits of truth here and a dose of lies there. Like any passionate youngster I made mistakes and believed half-truths standing for some things that seemed right at the time only later to find out I was wrong. I followed teachers and pastors and read my Bible and the hunger never left me to understand my Creator, why I was here, what mattered in life? And yes, there were times I am not proud of, times I shut Him out and tried to figure it all out on my own. I thought, "I can do this myself, I can find my own way", and that road only lead to confusion, sadness, idleness, false worship and more questions. I believe this is one of the lessons having your own free will can teach you (if your smart)....having a choice to do what we please doesn't always mean it is right. Our free will is a God-given gift, one that is a tool used by God (if we allow Him) to show that His way really is the better way; harder, but better. God was good to me and put a fork in my road one day, I had to stop, think and really LISTEN. He directed me on what I should be doing (that's between me and Him, but He was very clear about it) and as I DECIDED to slow down really take His direction and began to do what he asked of me a REALITY struck. I had been pushing, trying, fighting for truth but some of it was my 'truth' (meaning: thinking/views) mixed with the world's truth.  He was specific on the things I needed to change in order to commune with Him. He pinpointed things in my heart that needed changing because they were not like Him. He showed me a picture of what I made of myself without Him and in His view it was not pretty. But God is gracious and kind and also gave me a glimpse of what He wants to change me into if I would only let Him and that picture was much better then I could have fashioned on my own.
There are teachings in the world that there are many paths to God, or one of the popular ones in these times; you are a god. Lots of toes are stepped on and people offended because one religion says this while another says that. It is really one mixed up frenzy. Wouldn't we as people love it if someone came along and said stop this madness, I have directions and here they are but this is the only way to get there, there are deterrents that can hold you up but there's warning signs so listen to them and you'll be fine. Well folks, we have that simple map and God sent it through His Son Jesus. He's been saying He would since the beginning, since the Fall, He made a way, ONE way (as lazy as humans can be wouldn't we be grateful for this, it's already there for you, no figuring necessary; submission, trust and obedience is what He requires). He sent prophets, He sent pictures through the sacrificial system to point to His solution, JESUS. Then He DID IT, HE sent His Son to us and the message somehow still got lost, People didn't know who Jesus was, even those that should have (Pharisees and Sadducees) because they were caught up in the world's system, the world's ways of defining God and who He should be. Like anyone whose identity is in question would, Jesus told them like it was, I am the WAY, the TRUTH and the LIFE. No one comes to the Father except through me.
I could go on, I believe I've made my point. I chose to reject the world's 'road' and trust HIM and His WORD and He has not once let me down in His promises.  I'm still learning and growing and making mistakes and have a long way to go on this road but I have a confidence, a hope and a real interaction that is personal with the One true God. I am taking the road less traveled and it makes all the difference.

Maturity Tool 101: Becoming Vulnerable

     I am sitting at my computer right now letting my mind loop about the topic at hand as I grab a yogurt covered raisan and pop it in my mouth I keep trying to find reasons to NOT write about this subject. Why is being vulnerable so hard?
     When I think of the word, vulnerable, the word procastination follows right behind it. These two are sister words. When one has to open themselves up for possible annihilation, one tends to back-off and find a different route around the potential hazard, or just stay put if the road block seems to daunting.     We are creatures of comfort and naturally take the path that is smooth and easy. How easy it is to fall in this mindset and come to a point in your life where you feel you haven't accomplished or acheived or aspired to do what you know you could do or even wanted to do and along the way a realization occurs; you cut yourself off from many life lessons along the way. Many of which contain enjoyment, enrichment and giving for the betterment of others as well as oneself. I have noticed a pattern in the lives of those who are successful. They are willing to constantly put themselves in the face of failure; they MAKE themsleves vulnerable. They find grit in the face of oppostition and dig their heals in when no one wants to take the time to understand their position. Many times they find themsleves alone but their determination sees them through and during this process they gain a backbone, a stance that can not be shaken and are resolved to be the individual that has reached his potential in spite of the world or limitations set on them by people, oppressive ideology or careless words. There are many in history who have done this as an example for future generations to see and know that being vulnerable has its rewards.
     I too have recently had a minor battle with the not so fun part of vulnerabilty and I am actually still in the middle of the guantlet of raw feelings it tests your through. Some of those feelings are of inadequacy, second guessing yourself, putting yourself under the public microscope of scrutiny. Am I going to let rejection, indifference and possible failure change my determination or steal the joy I have had from making a conscience effort to fulfill a small dream. NO WAY!  Even if my dream is ignored by the world, kicked under the bed to gather dust bunnies and never gets an iota of recognition I am beginning to learn one valuable lesson vulnerablity tries to teach us; rewards from the world or peers are secondary, the fact you tried, you followed through and did what you said you were gonna do in spite of it all is what first and foremost matters.
      I look at Abraham Lincoln and Albert Einstein, and Paul the Apostle; three men who definately had their battles with being vulnerable and think, "what if they threw in the towel?" These three had the stubborn quality to see the goal and despite the obstacles, perservere. Although my battle with being vulnerable is miniscule compared to these wonderful examples,  I am aware that the choice I took to allow its lessons have only brought me further along a beautiful path I helped make instead of letting others trod one down for me.  
     These words of advice have helped me on this maturity lesson and I find them quite entertaining, I hope they can help you too. Oh, and by the way, these quotes are from graduates of vulnerabilty with honors in great success...

“The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate.”
Douglas Engelbart (American Inventor, co-invented the computer mouse)

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." Dr. Suess ( Everyone knows who he is...)