Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Shell Collector


On the inauthenticity, fear, and pride that gets in the way of loving people...

I collect shells. While most people keep their shell collections in glass jars, I carry mine with me every day. My shells go by different names. They're the various shields I use to hide behind: "Humor," "Smiling," "Independence." Those seem to be the ones I use most, but lately I've grown sick of them.

Why? They get in the way of truly knowing people and being known. Don't get me wrong; humor, smiling, and independence are all parts of who I am. But too often I fall back on them because they're the safe parts. They're parts that don't require me telling the truth about the other stuff, like pain, discouragement, frustration, fear, and shame. My shells make me safe.

But they don't make me free.

Read the rest.