The Things We Don’t Talk About

We all have things we don’t talk about. Things we hide, things we sweep under the rug, things we feel are better left unsaid. We’ve all got skeletons in our closets.

But I’m not sure the skeletons are quite comfortable, hidden away in our closets. They like to come out to play. They rattle around in our chests, they sneak into our beds, they dance eerily in our dreams, they interrupt our thoughts, they make themselves known.

So much energy is spent trying to keep them quiet, hidden away.

And I get it. I mean, what are we supposed to do with them? Invite them to tea? Take them as a Plus-One to your best friend’s wedding? Bring them along for Bring-The-Skeleton-In-Your-Closet-To-Work-Day?

I guess what I’m trying to say is, perhaps there’s no easy way to talk about the things we don’t talk about…so we just don’t.

But, what if we did?

I wonder if those skeletons might lose some of their power over us? I wonder if we might sleep a little more peacefully, hold our heads a little higher, show ourselves and each other a little more compassion? I wonder if we might finally understand we are not alone in this fight – whatever your fight looks like? I wonder if we might find the grace and courage to allow ourselves to step out and be seen.

I once heard a metaphor that has stuck with me through the years. Imagine you’re walking through a haunted house. It’s dark and full of terrifying creatures with chainsaws, and smoke and blood-curdling screams. It’s the stuff of nightmares. (Especially if you’re like me, and can’t even bear to watch previews for scary movies at the movie theater.)

But then, someone flips on the lights. Suddenly, you see the creatures are simply rubber masks, and the chainsaws have no chains, and the smoke is coming from a smoke machine in the corner. None of it is real. You are safe.

See, a haunted house isn’t scary anymore if you turn on the lights.

That’s what I’m here to do: Turn on the lights.

Sure, it’s scary. Yes, it takes courage. And of course it is always a risk. But what if we don’t have to face our skeletons alone? What if we don’t have to face that overwhelming fear and shame hidden in these haunted houses of ours alone?

My hope is that by turning on my lights, you might be encouraged to do the same.

Because in the end, we’re all just walking each other home.