The Power of an Outstretched Hand

The rocks were slick with moss, as we climbed over broken trees trunks that had been mowed down by a recent avalanche in the French Alps. My barefoot-style shoes allowed precision and the promise of sticking to the rocks -- but also the insecurity that comes with free-styling anything. "I am strong," I told myself, as I have from the time I was a teenager -- ever since my survival depended on that sort of lone-wolf self-talk.

One false move, one loose rock, or slipperiness beyond my calculations and I could fall. I looked down at my feet. We'd been doing a lot of grounding exercises, after all. But it's hard to root when in motion and on unstable ground. "I work out," I told myself. "My legs are strong." Still, my legs shook imperceptibly. Suddenly, a hand appeared. Becky held it for me as she stood on solid ground just a few steps below. I took it in rhythm with my fleet steps on one rock, then another and landed solidly on the ground beside her.

It was so small. Just a gesture. She didn't ask me if I wanted a hand, just just offered it. And I took it.

We walked through the woods, side by side, our arms around each other as though this were something I did every day -- accept a hand and then walk arm-in-arm with with a woman who wasn't that much older than my daughter. But here we were peers. A few more times, she offered her hand and I took it.

My grandson's most used phrase is: "Milo do it." It is so much faster for me to do it for him -- even if he's not asking. But I sit there on the floor with him while he single-mindedly pulls on his shoes and straightens the tongues. To rob him of his independence, his focus and determination would actually just be selfish at this point. I leave extra time and sit with him while he patiently completes these tasks that are so fundamental to his confidence and, ultimately, to hIs self-worth.

For most of my life, I realize I have been guided by the phrase "Susan do it!" Independence and self-reliance are high values in my family. As soon as I was able to be, I was self-sufficient -- from making my own lunch to solving my own problems, I did it myself, by myself. But these values have been upheld at a cost. Asking for or just accepting help often equates to weakness.

Yet, asking for help -- even just accepting it when it's offered -- is an act of humility and vulnerability. Thanks to Bréne Brown, vulnerability has become more widely understood as inseparable from courage. You cannot have one without the other. Accepting a hand when it's offered is so much easier -- and way less lonely. Sure, I can carry my own suitcase, but when a man stronger and bigger than me shows up to carry it for me...now I accept with gratitude and relief.

My grandson has another word he uses -- not quite as often as "Milo do it" -- but after he has exhausted his attempts, he pulls it out: "Help," he asks. Thanks to his mom, sometimes he even adds "Pease."

To be offered a hand is one of the greatest gifts that I am finally learning to accept. I felt so cared for. Safe. And a true sense of belonging. These simple moments add up to something bigger; they tell me that independence is strongest in an interdependent web; that strength and vulnerability balance each other. This is true resilience. Authentic leadership is about giving and receiving. Empowering others to do it themselves and asking for help.