Like most, if
not all people of a certain age, life has beaten me down a time or two. A lot of
the hard knocks schooling I’ve received has been accompanied by nauseating embarrassment.
Some cases have resulted in deep humiliation; others merely left my ego scorched.
On a few occasions the lessons have been life-changing. Most of these
experiences have just been uncomfortable. From each, even when outcomes have seemed
unjust or punitive, I have worked to uncover the deeper understanding
associated with whatever I had to go through.
Several
incidents have been purely physical. Now while I’ve never suffered the trauma of
broken bones, I have subjected myself to injuries that resulted in nasty scars.
Once as a bored kid, I climbed a fencepost and recklessly attempted a circus tightrope
act - across a length of barbed wire. It wasn’t pretty. One day in high school,
when late for marching band practice, I sliced my thigh while swinging it
carelessly over the football stadium’s locked gate. (It was topped with barbed
wire). Then there was the time, only a few years ago, when I performed my best
Superman impression and sailed over my mountain bike handlebars during a
downhill run; skinned my knee literally to the bone. No barbed wire was
involved this time, thankfully.
Some physical scars
carry deeper meaning. I recently was watching a tender scene in a violent movie
in which two people were about to make love. As they undressed, one noticed the
other had a long scar along her belly. When the man’s face changed, so did the
woman’s – to one of shame and embarrassment. As it turned out, the
woman had misread her prospective partner’s face; it was not one of disgust or
revulsion; it was empathy.
The scene
continued with the man removing his shirt to reveal his own physical scars. As
she tenderly caressed the violence-engendered wounds on his chest, I was struck
by how the simple act of sharing one’s ‘life wounds’ can bring people closer.
Sadly, this seems to be something most folks in real life rarely, if ever engage
in.
Most of us
operate from a place of protective cover. That is, we tend to hide the physical,
mental and emotional wounds we’ve accumulated over the course of our lifetimes.
We do this in an effort to shield ourselves from possible ridicule, criticism
or exploitation. I believe this practice can be, in many cases, practical and
prudent. I also think that in keeping our deepest wounds bandaged in silence,
we miss rare opportunities to forge meaningful connections with one another.
For most of my
life I have discussed and actually shown off the physical scars I’ve suffered,
doing so in a way that approaches silly macho bravado. I have done so willingly
– even though in most cases I acquired the scars by acting stupidly. Yet it has
only been in the last few years that I’ve also started sharing some of my
mental and emotional ‘scars’. In my life experience, I have learned
how beneficial it can be to share certain of my bigger mistakes, uncertainties
and even insecurities with others.
In fact, some
of my most meaningful encounters with human beings have been when I have
revealed my life wounds and talked openly about the scars they’ve left. What I
have found is that by initiating such sharing, a deeper understanding of myself
and the person I’m talking to emerges. And it often opens the door to important
dialogs that can really matter, which at least for me, can result in a healing effect
of my soul.
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