Disclosure

Recent visits with long-standing friends have caused me ponder a simple but profound reality: our earthly stories matter. A lot.  I’ve also been thinking how all of humanity shares pain as a common denominator.  

And yet we usually avoid the deepest pain, that of the soul, like a plague - or at the very least conceal it behind behavioral make-up.  We dress it up or ignore it as must as possible, get on with life, and spare others the brutal realities.  Brush it away, we say: mere flecks of dandruff.  Or else we rely on would-be painkillers in the form of addictions to food or unnatural substances, or weird behaviors.  We sometimes try to outrun the most deeply imbedded pain, forcing ourselves to draw from some other borrowed well just to keep going.  

The diminishing, deflecting, masking, hiding, and outrunning don’t resolve anything.  Denial of any kind only numbs the deep place inside that knows pain is real.  We end up hurting, maybe paralyzed. Often isolated and lonely.

I’ve come to believe pain isn’t accidental or coincidental, but purposeful.  Pain can inspire us to finally open up, to stop pretending and become brave.  And kind.  It calls us to be present in the moment: oh so current.  When pain stands naked in broad daylight without a place to hide, the creepy factor drops away.  We breathe.  We look around and notice things other than the pain.  We cry out to a very present God; we begin to see each other candidly, perhaps for the first time. 

This is called exposure, and more accurately, disclosure.  We usually don’t like it. This is also when our stories become epic.

Authenticity of this nature helps us begin to heal from pain’s numbness. The blinding light of reality dries seeping emotional boils perpetuated in dark closets of pseudo-protection, and we wake up to a new awareness of who we are and what life means from our unique points of view.  There is wonder here.  A sort of spaciousness. Awe.  Reverence.  Our stories start to make more sense.

I have come to believe all of life is holy. All. Holy pain is merely a flip side of holy joy, and both are ultimately tools of healing.   It is good to embrace our stories and tell others, and then invite them to share their versions with us so we can heal together.