In Alcoholics Anonymous we hear, “You are only as sick as your secrets.” The French say, “Nothing is so burdensome as a secret.” My daily meditation book says, “Secrets are a quiet cancer that eats away at our souls.”
That cancer word jumps off the page. I have known the cost of secrets in my life. There were many secrets I kept from others over the years and saw the cost to relationships. I also endured the damage of keeping my family’s secrets: my mother’s addiction, my father’s shame.
But today I know that the most damaging –and most frightening--secrets are the secrets I keep from myself. I worry now, maybe too much, but I fear this: am I telling myself the truth. Am I hiding my real feelings? Not just from John but from me. That’s the big danger.
I have decisions to make. Will I accept the fellowship that means a month away? Will I continue on in my graduate program? If I do is it because I really want these things or is it because other people think I should? If I don’t is it because of John’s cancer or because I am afraid to be away from him now? Am I giving up a part of me that matters or am I grateful for the excuse to give it up? The outsides may look the same but knowing what I really want and need --and telling my self the truth –matters.
Another secret I sit with: I miss my husband. What does that mean? Can I stand to feel that all the way through me? It feels sad and dangerous to allow myself that truth. But I also know that if I shrink from at least telling myself that truth I’ll be in more trouble later. Can I separate admitting that truth from acting on that truth? How will I know?
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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