As a teenager my older brother—now an accomplished artist—drew on our father’s workbench a picture of man’s head with an inscription below that read, “I’m bored, but only partially.”

I think my brother’s youthful pun unwittingly touched on a truth. Interfacing with others we can seem as if we are more wood than soul. Relationships are vulnerable ventures. Low-risk relationships have very little substance. As we grow closer to another we feel less protected and more vulnerable to being hurt, inconvenienced, judged or rejected.

Being wooden has utility. We’re less penetrable and thus less likely to experience pain and sorrow. In the movie Good Will Hunting, Sean (Robin Williams) says to Will (Matt Damon), “You don’t know about real loss, ’cause it only occurs when you’ve loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much.” The mostly-wooden Will has worked hard to shield himself from past, present, and future heartache.

Despite its utility, wooden doesn’t work for anyone who wants to fully live. We give ourselves and others a gift in resisting the temptation to harden against the inevitable suffering that accompanies any meaningful human connection. The less wooden teacher is honest about not knowing an answer to a question. The less wooden coach welcomes contributions from her players. The less wooden parent takes responsibility for being impatient. Embracing authenticity and vulnerability avails us to others, and allows others to enrich and enlarge our world.