Ever since I can remember, I’ve been what you’d call “extremely self-conscious”. I was always looking to find what people thought of me, where I stood and what impression I made. And when the beings around me weren’t as light and conscious as I’d hoped they were, and they judged me or themselves, I would go into weird worlds. Being around people became unbearable. I knew there was something terrible about me, and in every choice and every step, I felt wrong, wrong, wrong. I kept looking for what others were doing that made them successful, but couldn’t make that work for me for some reason. I started hating being around people. I hated conversation, I hated new situations, I hated socializing. I wanted to go off and live alone so that I would have the peace of mind I lacked. I fantasized about a world where I was living and creating alone. I also pushed most people away.
What some call “anti-social” was for me just an attempt to get away from people so that they wouldn’t see me and I wouldn’t have to see me, either.
The funny thing is, though, when I actually looked at what I thought was the most terrible thing about me, I wouldn’t be able to hold on to that judgment anymore. It would disappear. It wasn’t real.
And that is what I’ve been discovering more and more.
And so I desire for that freedom to be the norm. I desire to live in a world where we didn’t have to judge, but could instead look at what we’ve decided is the most terrible thing about us and think, “That’s funny!”
I come to you bearing sins.
Cupping them in my hands, I walk up to you and insolently expose the unexposable.
I wait for the gasps, the shrieks, the eyes terrified and averted.
Knowing I can’t carry on this job anymore, I pull my hands apart, spilling the abominations onto the floor.
I show you this, but not to harm your eyes.
I bring it all to you, but not to terrorize you.
I bring it out in the open so that I will lift the terror off of the world.
I ask you, will you look at me?
Will you accept me?
Will you see the shaking, the pain, and the torture I’ve been through?
Will you take me, or will you judge me?
Will you whip me, strike me, banish me?
Or will you take my hand, and gently, but joyfully, laugh?
And all those around will relax, and my body will grow strong again and heal, and my soul will radiate and thrive.
All because of your simple smile and your kindness.
I come to you bearing your worst secrets…
And if you receive them, they will be your gift.
But will you, oh, will you receive?