I’ve never been a good keeper of my own secrets. I can keep my mouth shut for others, but if you know what to look for, you can see my life on my body.
I don’t like keeping secrets.
The “keeping ____ close to the vest” – hate it.
When I am keeping secrets, I can’t say how things really are. I’m greatly uncomfortable with that. When I live like that I stop talking altogether. (I’ll bet some of you can’t even imagine that!!) What’s there to talk about? Everything is connected. Ripples everywhere. For me, secrecy is akin to lying. Then, if I lie about one aspect of my life every relationship I have is based on fiction. My mother was a phenomenal secret-keeper. Ironically now that she no longer recognizes me she is both unable to keep any more secrets while keeping the secrets that would help explain how she got to this place. When I was a teenager we were friends. Now, as her life comes to an end, I realize I never knew her.
I hate secrets.
Why would I keep secrets?
Is there another reason for keeping secrets?
Playing games instead of open and direct communication.
Snow came today and it occurred to me that if it snowed long enough, it would hide everything. We would no longer be able to see what is beneath the snow.
The world looks sparkling, clean and beautiful. Snowflakes fall gracefully; fearlessly floating into relationship with what is below.
We have outrsnow too. That which hides what we fear to have seen.
Somewhere along our journey we learn to hide what is unique. We learn was is acceptable and from there we filter what we allow to be seen and heard. We conceal what we believe will not be tolerated.
What we only share with a select few – if anyone at all. Experience lives and breathes in the body. Experience manifests as sensation. It can become locked in when we become stuck. Locked within, it passes through a metamorphosis until we choose to perceive what has been internally digested as the “way we are” – part of us.
On this path we choose illusion over truth. When truth is so uncomfortable that self-deceit is a relief – the metamorphosis is complete.
It turns us inside out, this metamorphosis; this constant burning of fear. Misguided vigilance makes a sacrifice out of our truth to serve our secrets. We sacrifice who we are – our ability to show up – to serve fear.
We will preserve our secrets/fear and secrecy/fear at the risk of all else. We lose our selves and the ones we love and who love us.
Fear of scarcity.
Fear of abandonment.
Fear of loneliness.
Fear of failure.
Fear of looking foolish.
The steps we take to prevent what we fear are the very steps that ensure the nurture, feeding and manifestation of what we fear.
What we deem unwanted:
Is both Unique and Collective.
We so often feel alone in what we keep secret when the reality is that we are not alone at all. For being unique in ourselves, how we experience life and what we fear is remarkably ubiquitous. Ultimately the walls we build with our secrets are walls that keep us from ourselves.
If I can’t connect to myself fully then how can I ever hope to connect to another?
One thought on “Awareness of Secrecy”
I am so used to only hearing the blunt, formal, insipid, distant “I’m fine” and its multiple versions, and respond the same way, that when somebody talks from the heart, and gives me hints that something is not all right, and maybe expresses the longing for connection…I miss it all together. I realize minutes later, much too late, that I missed an opportunity for which my heart longed as well… The commitment to listen to others deeply and speak my truth…eludes me more often than I would like…but step by step, baby step by baby step, things change…