Places We Hide

I don’t know about you, but there are times when I feel like I just can’t face anybody. And, I mean any body.

So if you don’t mind, I’ll scoot under a down comforter, dial-up a time out, and disappear for a week or two, ok?

Thanks …

Sometimes, this strain of ‘spirt-snap’ spits out a scenario like this. “I’m heading out into the open air of my day. Slipping on a jacket, shades and a Covid mask. Layering my armor in the event of a chance encounter with any free-floating dementors.”

Right … :)

On other occasions, this ‘drive to hide’ shows up more abstractly. Perhaps some emotional heavy-weather has blown in. And, right quick, Self-Doubt steps up to take over the wheel.

Not an auspicious beginning for any road trip …

If you listen closely, you may notice a perceptible rhythm.

Remember that catchy Paul Simon lyric from Graceland?

♪I know what I know …♪

Only now, we’re singing it, ♪ I don’t know what I know ♪.

Our self-confidence has skipped town without notice, stripping the ground from beneath our feet.

And with confusion swingin’ around like a pinata, it’s plenty tough to get a good whack at some mental clarity.

So we hunker down …

This is Duck and Cover time, folks.

Duck: rapid deflection away from falling objects

Cover: defense against body blows to head, heart or gut

We give it our best shot in promoting the interest of our security. Making a reservation for self-preservation.

“Book me a table for one, please. Away from the bathrooms and any large plate-glass windows”.

But, Duck & Cover has its own limitations. As we’re taking measures against trauma, we are also generating it.

I mean, try asking yourself: what does this feel like? Huddling alone in that bunker, in the middle of a war zone in your head?

We’re hiding away, yes. Locked-in with our feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. But, we’re also sheltering from our Light.

That private little hell we’re enduring applies just the right amount of pressure needed to crack us open …

There is a crack, a crack in everything,
That’s how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen

And, wouldn’t you know it? (You tell us, brother Steven …)

The process of growth … is the art of falling down. Measured by the gentleness and awareness with which we pick ourselves up … the openness with which we continue and take the next unknown step, beyond our edge … into the remarkable mystery of being.

Steven Levine

So you draw in a deep breath. Removing your sunglasses and mask.

You take that next step.
Noticing, with a smile, that it is a dance step …