I love books, especially books that make me think. My bookshelves are lined with everything from the ancient writings of the mystics and saints to the literary words of Flannery O’Conner and J.D. Salinger. It appears I cannot get enough of the written word. That being said, allow me to discuss my favorite book.
The most influential I have read in many years (aside from the Bible) is “The Monster at the End of the Book” by none other than loveable and furry old Grover. For those not familiar with Grover, he is one of the stars of Sesame Street. The premise of the book – Grover exerts all his efforts to prevent the reader from turning the pages and thus moving closer to the monster at the end of the book. He uses rope, bricks and steel in attempts to hold down each page. The reader of course continues towards the end of the book only to find the monster is Grover. And recognizing the craziness of his efforts to avoid the conclusion, he announces, “Oh, I am so embarrassed.”
Our secrets are the monsters at the end of our books. When we hold on to what we believe is too awful for exposure, we become a self-imposed prisoners. We build up our walls, box ourselves in, and sit in solitary confinement. We cannot allow others to come into our cell, for we cannot risk our secret(s) being exposed. Unconfessed parts of us – things we have done, things we have failed to do are like the monster at the end of the book.
Confessing our secrets leads to freedom and peace. But this act is not for the faint of heart. Confession requires another “C” word, courage. It takes courage to peel back the layers of our prison walls and bring into the open those things which we regret and hold in deep shame.
Because I believe in boundaries (see the letter “B”), I will not confess my secret shames in this forum. I have a trusted few in my inner circle who are kind enough to hear them. But I will tell you about the first time my deepest, darkest shame made its way to be heard. I was in my late twenties, and therefore had carried this shame for over ten years. I had many opportunities to share my shameful deed with others, but in my mind it was too much. I grew sick to my stomach even thinking about exposing it. I feared both their reactions as well as my own. What would happen if I claimed aloud that not only was I capable of a dreadful act, but I had committed it and harmed another? I did not want to acknowledge the monster within me.
But I confessed it first to a therapist and later to the one I had harmed. I found understanding and compassion from a therapist (always a good things to find in a therapist), and I found forgiveness from the one I had harmed. These were good things. But I also found peace. I did not have to live in fear of being found out. I did not worry about the monster coming forth and wreaking havoc.
As humans, we have the capacity to create and nurture, but we also have the power to harm and destroy. We are both gentle lambs and ferocious lions. When we try and cover up and keep the lion quiet, we will find ourselves exhausted from the struggle. When we confess our secrets, they begin to lose their power. They are tamed and become more manageable. Our energy is then able to shift from hiding to healing.
Next . . . “D” as in Diagnonsense.
The most influential I have read in many years (aside from the Bible) is “The Monster at the End of the Book” by none other than loveable and furry old Grover. For those not familiar with Grover, he is one of the stars of Sesame Street. The premise of the book – Grover exerts all his efforts to prevent the reader from turning the pages and thus moving closer to the monster at the end of the book. He uses rope, bricks and steel in attempts to hold down each page. The reader of course continues towards the end of the book only to find the monster is Grover. And recognizing the craziness of his efforts to avoid the conclusion, he announces, “Oh, I am so embarrassed.”
Our secrets are the monsters at the end of our books. When we hold on to what we believe is too awful for exposure, we become a self-imposed prisoners. We build up our walls, box ourselves in, and sit in solitary confinement. We cannot allow others to come into our cell, for we cannot risk our secret(s) being exposed. Unconfessed parts of us – things we have done, things we have failed to do are like the monster at the end of the book.
Confessing our secrets leads to freedom and peace. But this act is not for the faint of heart. Confession requires another “C” word, courage. It takes courage to peel back the layers of our prison walls and bring into the open those things which we regret and hold in deep shame.
Because I believe in boundaries (see the letter “B”), I will not confess my secret shames in this forum. I have a trusted few in my inner circle who are kind enough to hear them. But I will tell you about the first time my deepest, darkest shame made its way to be heard. I was in my late twenties, and therefore had carried this shame for over ten years. I had many opportunities to share my shameful deed with others, but in my mind it was too much. I grew sick to my stomach even thinking about exposing it. I feared both their reactions as well as my own. What would happen if I claimed aloud that not only was I capable of a dreadful act, but I had committed it and harmed another? I did not want to acknowledge the monster within me.
But I confessed it first to a therapist and later to the one I had harmed. I found understanding and compassion from a therapist (always a good things to find in a therapist), and I found forgiveness from the one I had harmed. These were good things. But I also found peace. I did not have to live in fear of being found out. I did not worry about the monster coming forth and wreaking havoc.
As humans, we have the capacity to create and nurture, but we also have the power to harm and destroy. We are both gentle lambs and ferocious lions. When we try and cover up and keep the lion quiet, we will find ourselves exhausted from the struggle. When we confess our secrets, they begin to lose their power. They are tamed and become more manageable. Our energy is then able to shift from hiding to healing.
Next . . . “D” as in Diagnonsense.
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