Tuesday, May 27, 2008

The Secret World...

I stood in this unsheltered place
'Til I could see the face behind the face
All that had gone before had left no trace.

Down by the railway siding
In our secret world, we were colliding
All the places we were hiding love
What was it we were thinking of?
~~ Peter Gabriel, Secret World

All my life I have kept secrets. Secrets from others. Secrets from myself. And I wonder what would happen if every last truth was told; if every last story came spilling forth from my heart? If every stifled tear, every withheld love, every smile, every laugh was allowed to surface, what would happen to my life? Who would be left standing when nothing else remains?

Is keeping a secret ever a good thing? Does the quiet not slowly eat away at our soul? Is there not a voice that yearns to be heard, a hope that yearns to be fulfilled, a love that cannot be quelled?

I understand the appeal of the confessional practice in many religions.
I don't think it's about absolution. I think it's about having someone witness your secrets and having them held in a sacred space. It's about knowing you're not going through life alone. It's about feeling that maybe some other person can hold the space for this secret in their heart while you get on with the rest of living.

And yet, I'm sure I will die off from this life with many a secret in my heart. How could it be otherwise?

tall penguin

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