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Tuesday, January 16, 2018

ALTAR OF SHAME




Imagine an ornate, highly textured door.
Perhaps it has a frame of gold painted, elaborately carved wood.
There are prayers on the door, inscriptions from petitioners,
flowers and offerings laid at the feet of the door.
Incense is burning, small bells are ringing in the breeze.
Unique and complicated locks bar the way.
The door is only opened on specific holidays or significant moments.
Only the initiated can enter.
Special foods and clothing are required.
Cleansing is very important-both before and after entry.
Nothing from the world can be brought into this room 
and nothing from the past can come out of this room.
The contents need to be protected at all costs.
Whatever is inside is priceless, precious, possibly terrifying.


The uninitiated would open the door and find...
very little.
A St. Christopher's medal with a bent coupling.
A few empty bottles or wrappers.
A stuffed bear with his eyes chewed out.
A busted TV at the bottom of some stairs.
A hotel bed with rumpled sheets.
Inside seems very ordinary to those not in the know.
Nothing has been moved or changed within this room in a long time.
And nothing is likely to move-ever.
These things are apart.
Separate and frozen.


This is the mental metaphor I use around shame.



This is a very elaborate restroom behind a very simple door

According to Brene Brown, shame is defined as:


The experiences that generate shame are unique to each person.
Our context, culture and habits shape our values...
and the experiences we choose to hide.
Something that would cause me to feel shame would 
cause another person to feel joy.  

Most people realize that when an event or choice occurs,
 that isn't in alignment with our values, 
we want to hide it, cover it up, or avoid it.
We think that if we can forget it, put it behind us, move on-
then it will dissipate.
The less in alignment the event is with our self image,
the stronger the instinct becomes to shove it somewhere else.
Out of sight, out of mind.
As though it never happened.



Our instinct to hide the feeling or experience,
can actually work to turn a bad experience 
into a shameful experience. 
Forcing that experience into the dark
allows it to prosper, grow and become powerful.
I think that shame persists because when we hide it, 
or fail to share it, then we make the event precious.
It is special, priceless, and NO ONE ELSE CAN HAVE IT!

I can feel the beginnings of an argument here.
The immediate gut reaction says 
SHAME CANNOT BE PRECIOUS.
Shame is awful.
Shame is poisonous, evil, disgusting.
All of those protestations are true...
but let's just keep going here.
When we have something that we believe 
is priceless or precious
what is our behavior?
Do we share it with the world?
Or do we lock it down with high tech security sensors?
Do we leave it abandoned on a park bench?
Or do we install early warning sensors? 
We tend to lock things away that 
we think are precious.
Gold, diamonds, rare art.
Priceless.
Meaning...there is no price that would 
cause us to let go of that item.

We put it in a special place, 
build walls and cement the door, 
place shame inside and then do 
WHATEVER IT TAKES to 
protect that shame.
We build altars, create rituals, tell half-truth stories-
all to keep the essence of the event to ourselves.

How do I know that I'm ashamed of something?
Because I would give anything to keep it from coming to light.
Because I would bend myself into any shape to keep it safe and hidden.
Because it is mine, all mine, forever mine.
Because I have anxiety or anger when I think of giving it up.
Because I have rearranged my entire life to keep from sharing it.

The cure (the ease, not the fix)
 is found in the integration of the myths and stories
with the reality of life.
Tell someone.
Tell several someones.
Open the door and smash the locks.
When there is something that cannot be known
because if it is known, you will be defined differently...
then that thing has already become your definition.


Battery park in Charleston









1 comment:

Enlightened Soul said...

It goes without saying that I really liked this one. :)