Come out, come out, wherever you are. |
Hiding Alone A child, I always had a place to hide, to mark as my own space. It was my bedroom. It was mine and no one else’s. No closed doors without the question ‘why?’ but it was seldom needed. No one bothered to come by. I was there alone to write and read. Later on with others in the house, two children and a spouse the bed was still my quiet place, the goalpost at the end of day. For golden minutes in between, the door still open where I could be seen, I learned to hide behind my eyes. The habit is so difficult to break, to hide within oneself and not partake of all life offers, choosing to observe and yet not enter in, invisible. I had to teach myself to feel and have a thought, and speak what’s real to me. It’s loud out there, and vulnerable. I didn’t know that it would be so hard to open up and speak, let down my guard. I could scarcely bear the silence all around me, wanted people to break in, complete my sentence, anything to let me off the hook. I’d blush and stammer in the hush escaping, when I could, to hide again. Thank God someone saw me hiding there frightened and alone behind my stare and gently found a way to lure me out. I learned to talk without the fear of being judged. encouraged I came out more often, learned inviting others’ hearts to soften, to speak through their pain and not to hide. |