Scary Close: by Donald Miller
From the cover:
Donald Miller built a career emphasizing the funny and smart bits of his personality. But when “playing a role” turned into an identity crisis, he found it impossible to find true intimacy. Headed toward a life of loneliness and isolation, Don met a few guides who taught him the only way to connect with others was to be completely honest about who he really was. But in an age when we all act as our own publicity agents, would he be willing to impress fewer people to honestly connect with more? The results are Scary Close.
Why should you read this book?
Donald Miller is a New York Time’s Bestseller. But even success can’t save us from our own isolation. Every single one of us struggle to be our authentic selves. We worry too much about what people think. We perform in front of others. We edit our lives on social media. To be human is to crave intimacy and connection. But we can’t do that if we don’t drop the act. Donald helps us see what it looks like to dig deep into ourselves, to dig through our insecurities and find who we truly are.
Excerpts:
“Millions of couples break off engagements and nearly all of them are better off because of it. But when you’re in it, when you say all those words and don’t mean them a couple of months later, you feel like a fool. You wonder if your words have power anymore, and what is a man if his words are weakened?
Add to this the sadness, the confusing grief involved in hurting somebody and the forced realization there’s something in you so unhealthy and careless it could level a heart.”
“We don’t think of our flaws as the glue that binds us to the people we love, but they are. Grace only sticks to our imperfections. Those who can’t accept their imperfections can’t accept grace either.”
From a session with his counselor:
“So she stood up and took two chairs and faced them toward each other. She said one chair represented who I was internally and the other chair represented who I was externally. She asked me to sit in the chair that represented the inner me and then she asked how it felt. I said I felt great, that I was calm and at peace. She asked me how old I was, not my real age, but the age I felt while sitting in the chair that symbolized my inner life. I thought about it for a second and told her I felt like I was about thirty-five, old enough to have figured life out and yet young enough to still build something I could work on for decades. “Great,” she said. “Fascinating.”
She then asked me to sit in the chair that represented the external me. I stood up and walked over to the other chair. I noticed immediately I felt a little anxious, confused, and pressured and I told her so. She said, “Don, how old are you in this chair?”
“I’m nine.” I said. “I’m nine years old.” She just sat there and let me think about it for a moment. I know this sounds odd and goofy, but in one chair I really felt like a capable adult and in the other I felt like a scared kid.
“Don,” she said, “do you realize you’re sending a nine-year-old out to do all your performing?”
What my counselor said made complete sense. Ever since I was a child, ever since I became wrongly convinced I had to be bigger and smarter than I really was, I’ve been trying to perform, trying to convince people I was more capable than I really was.”
About the Author
Donald Miller is the author of several books, including the bestsellers Blue Like Jazz and A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Now he’s an entrepreneur helping businesses grow using the elements of story.