Being Vulnerable Together On the 6th “Birthday” of PeerRx!

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen …. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world.”  Brene Brown (The Gifts of Imperfection). 

This week marks 6 years since the launch of the PeerRxMed process and 16 years since the vision for PeerRx was first planted in me.  For each of the over 300 times I’ve shared a blog since then, I’ve experienced that same feeling of vulnerability I felt when I first hit the “make public” button on the PeerRxMed website and put myself “out there.”

In that first blog, I wrote the following, “Those of you who know me well will likely be surprised as to how hard it was for me to do this.  The vulnerability I have been feeling at the prospect of sharing this dream more widely has at times been stifling … as I was allowing my fears that it wouldn’t be ‘perfect’ or some might think it was ‘soft’ or ‘trite’ and the potential criticism that may result to prevent me from moving ahead.  It’s the same reason that in the past I have shared the poetry I write with so few people, even though I consider it to be a vital expression of who I am.” 

I went on to write, “It is my suspicion that many of us don’t allow wonderful, deeply important parts of ourselves to be ‘seen’ due to our fear as to how those parts will be received. And in the process, we don’t really bring our authentic selves to the world. If that is true for you, what are some of those parts of you and what prevents you from sharing more?”  Little did I know at the time as to how much those questions would continue to shape me. The hesitation, as I have learned, is often less about ability, and more about standing at the edge of the unknown and deciding whether to step forward.

As I have previously shared, in 2025 I chose the self-created word liminicious to name what felt like an invitation to inhabit those edges more consciously.  Over time, I have come to see that the PeerRx process itself has always lived in that in-between space; between isolation and connection, exhaustion and renewal, the professional mask and the human face beneath it. The recently written poem Liminal, shared below, emerged from that same terrain. It reflects the experience of standing before something older, wiser, and more patient than our small-self stories, and allowing that presence to humble and widen us.

Sharing this poem now feels like crossing another threshold. Six years ago, I wondered whether I could risk being seen. Today, I recognize that the deeper work of PeerRx has always been about creating spaces where we can stand in unknowing together, without rushing to fix, define, or perform. If liminicious defined my intention for 2025, this poem embodies it. It is an invitation to pause in that sacred in-between, personally and collectively, and trust what may be emerging.

After reading it, you might reach out to your PeerRx partner or another colleague and ask, “What is this season inviting you to release, and what might be opening for you?” Because the “more” the poem gestures toward is not solitary transcendence. It is the widening that happens when we loosen our grip on the small self and discover that we are shaped, strengthened, and expanded through one another. In that shared space, there is always more.

Liminal

Here, the rocks

seem to know your name,

and yet not care.

What is a name to them, after all?
   Or to you.

Nor is the canyon’s whispered hush

interested in your shallow-self stories,

its geologic memories

humbling even those

layered in 

your ancient past

as it silently welcomes

every shadow.

 Friend, let go of your plans

as the illusion they are

  and embrace the ultimate mystery –

not death, or life

   but now ...

Remember that between

what you would call your

present self
and what might

next emerge

is a void

  that really isn’t –

a sacred threshold

of unknowing.

Why do you rush to fill it

    or rush at all ...

Whatever you think you are looking for,

pause, listen, and allow this moment

to inform.

And then

there will be less

   of you …

   and

  more