Authenticity

How a fall vineyard is like surfing.

A couple weeks ago, I found myself standing on Venice Beach having a crisis of authenticity.

We had just spent a week with our 13-year-old grandson in Guatemala, doing all kinds of fun things, like climbing an active volcano and roasting marshmallows over the steam vents in the lava field. We went to a cooking school where we learned how to make a delicious Rosa de Jamaica beverage with chia seeds, small tamales with Chipilín, and Pepian, a Guatemalan chicken stew. We visited a local candy shop, and I encouraged him to try my favorite candies (Canillas de Leche and Colochos de Guayaba…yum!). We made tortillas and ate Longaniza sausage. Since I grew up in Guatemala, all these experiences were familiar to me. In fact, in many ways, it felt like “home.”

Our next stop was L.A. where we had planned to immerse him in the Southern California culture for a couple days before sending him back home to Switzerland. We had lunch in K-town and enjoyed the requisite fast-food delicacies at Chick-Fil-A, In-n-Out, and Easy Street Burgers. We visited Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and UCLA. And…we planned a private surf lesson for him on Venice Beach. 

By the time we arrived at the appointed parking lot to meet the surf instructor, the fog had cleared, and the sun was shining brightly on the (almost empty) expansive beach, and small waves gently breaking on the sand. I had worn my new bathing suit and brought a towel to sit on while I watched the lesson and took pictures from the safety of the sand. 

As much as I think I love the beach, mostly it’s the warm sand and the occasional splash of the water on my feet as I walk along the edge that I enjoy most. I’m not a great swimmer, and having been turned upside down and slammed on the beach bodysurfing as a kid and having my back “caressed” by a shark as an adult, I have pretty much sworn off going into deep water in the ocean. 

As we stood at the back of the truck surveying the wet suit and board options for my grandson, it became apparent that he was feeling a little vulnerable and wished for some company on the grand surfing adventure. “C’mon, Nana…do it with me!” he cajoled. The surf instructor chimed in, “My mom learned to surf when she was 68!” What I thought right then is inappropriate to write here, but it basically amounts to something like, “Oh, boy, this is my nightmare experience!” 

In that moment, I realized I had to reach deep and activate my word for the year: courage! After all, I had invited my grandson into courageously trying new things. Would I be able to vulnerably model an authentic, lifelong journey of courage?

I donned a wetsuit (for the first time, ever…eek!) and carried a surfboard down to the water’s edge. We practiced on dry land, then got in the shallow water with very gentle waves. I did not feel brave. I felt incredibly clumsy and vulnerable. Perhaps, my own feelings somewhat matched those of my grandson, but we were “in it” together! 

All my instincts were screaming, “Standing on this board while it’s moving in the water is ridiculously impossible!” but somehow during the second hour of our lesson, I continued leaning into courage and managed a few miraculous seconds of surfing! Of course, I fell a LOT too! My grandson was a star and was able to ride many waves, even going out a bit further to catch slightly bigger waves. 

I titled this blog Authenticity, so you may be wondering what courage has to do with authenticity. Good question!

“Authenticity is when our outward actions match what is true and unseen inside our soul.”

There are many things in our soul about which we can choose to be authentic. One thing I believe in my soul is that taking healthy risks is not just a good thing, it’s critical to sustainable flourishing. I believe taking healthy risks contributes to a growth mindset, builds resilience, strengthens character, and fosters a sense of purpose.

So, if I believe it’s good to take healthy risks, then “authentic me” will exhibit that belief by taking healthy risks! However, being authentic is risky. It means exposing what is inside my soul, and that feels terribly vulnerable. Brené Brown says, “Vulnerability is the emotion that we experience during times of uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” Feeling vulnerable may feel like weakness, which is one reason we often avoid being authentic, but Brené goes on to say, “Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” Isn’t that interesting? Courage is what we need to be authentic in the first place! 

Think of it this way: 

Authenticity makes us feel vulnerable.

Vulnerability is a measure of courage.

Courage fuels authenticity. 

True colors!

A fall vineyard, dressed in yellow, red, purple, or brown leaves

is a great example of authenticity.

As the days grow shorter and the temperatures drop, photosynthesis slows down, then stops altogether. The chlorophyll in the leaves, which has given the leaves their vibrant green color throughout the growing season due to the process of photosynthesis, drains out of the cells leaving the true color of the leaf to shine through. Pigments like carotenoids (responsible for yellow, orange, and brown colors) and anthocyanins (producing red and purple shades) that have been in the leaf all along but were masked by the chlorophyll during the summer, are now visible to the outside world. What is authentic inside the leaf is visible on the outside during fall. The fall cycle in the vineyard is not optional. It’s necessary for every vine to go through the authenticity of fall and move into the dormancy and rest of winter, which then energizes the whole next season of fruitfulness. Every season is part of flourishing.

How about you? What authentic belief inside of you needs to match your outside activity in this season of your life or leadership? It’s possible just thinking about that exposure makes you feel vulnerable. Can you begin to imagine how courage grows from vulnerability and fuels the next authentic act? 

“I believe every time we activate the cycle of authenticity, we grow towards greater sustainable flourishing. ”

There, I said it. Now, I know some of you will hold me accountable! Honestly, every time I put some authentic words out in the world, I feel vulnerable and have to remember that it takes tremendous courage to be authentic. 

Perhaps, if you live somewhere where the leaves are turning colors this time of year, you could pick up a leaf and set it somewhere to remind you that authenticity inspires greater flourishing.