We have kept a lot of secrets. Secrets that were ours, secrets that belonged to other people. Sometimes we couldn't tell the difference. Sometimes we're not sure when a secret is a secret. We don't like keeping secrets (usually,) and often simply must tell at least one other person. That person is usually some one who is closest to us, closer than all others: a best friend, a sister, a spouse, a lover. Over the course of our lives, we learn to understand how secrets are important; we spend time thinking about them, worrying about them, weighing them, not just our own secrets, but those we protect for the sake of others as well.
The things we keep secret, especially for ourselves, tell an enormous amount about who we are. We don't want everyone and anyone to see us in light of certain facts. For the most part, in our public communities, those personal things which are kept secret would be judged harshly in a public light, even if that is not the case on an interpersonal level. There are cruel and unjust biases that can be cast about almost haphazardly in the public view. Much of who we all really are doesn't fit with the assumed ideals of our common culture or society; most of us are not "normal."
Secrets keep little wedges in between people, sometimes even walls. Sometimes those wedges or walls are buffers, protecting people on both sides from pain. Sometimes, those walls and wedges keep love out, and confusion and distrust in. Yet at other time, the most trivial pieces of every day life turn into well-kept secrets, because of timing, perspective, and circumstance. Such secrets are not themselves trivial, because like all secrets they occupy a space, locked in by barriers, forcing the rest of consciousness and experience to grow around the space, thereby shaping the keepers. During the course of this process, our secrets gain more and more layers of nuance and meaning, inevitably altering our identities by what they symbolize.
Our secrets are almost tangible, we can feel them. They make us sweat, fidget, laugh, cry, feel sick, frightened, excited or angry. Secrets "weigh" on us; some of secrets are light, almost weightless, others seem to be as heavy as the earth itself. Secrets can be full of love, they can be funny, they can mask generations of hatred, one person's tiny childhood resentment, or hide deep and unhealing psychological wounds.
I have had so many secrets. Have you always been aware when you were keeping a secret? Sometimes we try to keep secrets from ourselves. Sometimes we keep secrets only because we have kept them so long, and buried them so deep, we don't know or remember how to share.
When you have kept secrets, how has that effected your behavior? How, or in what ways are your behaviors consistent in the keeping of various different secrets? In what ways do you act differently, depending on what kind of secret your keeping, or even who the secret belongs to originally? Do you keep your own secrets, or those of others, more tightly wrapped? Why?
How do we feel when some one very close to us has a secret, and they don't let us in? Do we try to find out what it is, regardless of the consequences? Do we wait, and hope they will tell us? Do we accept it, and put it out of our minds? How have we seen other people behave when they are keeping a secret? Is possible, secrets beget secrets, as it is said lies beget lies? Perhaps through secrets, we have created the value of trust. Western culture certainly has an ingrained tendency to enshrine secret-keeping, perhaps secrets are part of human nature. We can all think of circumstances in which a secret would be good, of great positive moral value, yet sometimes have difficulty identifying where on our moral spectrum a secret sits. To a large extent, secrets shape our relationships: to whom, how much, when, and why we do or don't reveal secrets. How does keeping a secret effect honesty? Part of social grace in our culture, is knowing how much is too much to share, yet sometimes, on the level of intimacy and friendship, our standards for openness are extremely high.
Secrets are a part of life. For good, or for ill, they define us, as individuals and as a society.
The things we keep secret, especially for ourselves, tell an enormous amount about who we are. We don't want everyone and anyone to see us in light of certain facts. For the most part, in our public communities, those personal things which are kept secret would be judged harshly in a public light, even if that is not the case on an interpersonal level. There are cruel and unjust biases that can be cast about almost haphazardly in the public view. Much of who we all really are doesn't fit with the assumed ideals of our common culture or society; most of us are not "normal."
Secrets keep little wedges in between people, sometimes even walls. Sometimes those wedges or walls are buffers, protecting people on both sides from pain. Sometimes, those walls and wedges keep love out, and confusion and distrust in. Yet at other time, the most trivial pieces of every day life turn into well-kept secrets, because of timing, perspective, and circumstance. Such secrets are not themselves trivial, because like all secrets they occupy a space, locked in by barriers, forcing the rest of consciousness and experience to grow around the space, thereby shaping the keepers. During the course of this process, our secrets gain more and more layers of nuance and meaning, inevitably altering our identities by what they symbolize.
Our secrets are almost tangible, we can feel them. They make us sweat, fidget, laugh, cry, feel sick, frightened, excited or angry. Secrets "weigh" on us; some of secrets are light, almost weightless, others seem to be as heavy as the earth itself. Secrets can be full of love, they can be funny, they can mask generations of hatred, one person's tiny childhood resentment, or hide deep and unhealing psychological wounds.
I have had so many secrets. Have you always been aware when you were keeping a secret? Sometimes we try to keep secrets from ourselves. Sometimes we keep secrets only because we have kept them so long, and buried them so deep, we don't know or remember how to share.
When you have kept secrets, how has that effected your behavior? How, or in what ways are your behaviors consistent in the keeping of various different secrets? In what ways do you act differently, depending on what kind of secret your keeping, or even who the secret belongs to originally? Do you keep your own secrets, or those of others, more tightly wrapped? Why?
How do we feel when some one very close to us has a secret, and they don't let us in? Do we try to find out what it is, regardless of the consequences? Do we wait, and hope they will tell us? Do we accept it, and put it out of our minds? How have we seen other people behave when they are keeping a secret? Is possible, secrets beget secrets, as it is said lies beget lies? Perhaps through secrets, we have created the value of trust. Western culture certainly has an ingrained tendency to enshrine secret-keeping, perhaps secrets are part of human nature. We can all think of circumstances in which a secret would be good, of great positive moral value, yet sometimes have difficulty identifying where on our moral spectrum a secret sits. To a large extent, secrets shape our relationships: to whom, how much, when, and why we do or don't reveal secrets. How does keeping a secret effect honesty? Part of social grace in our culture, is knowing how much is too much to share, yet sometimes, on the level of intimacy and friendship, our standards for openness are extremely high.
Secrets are a part of life. For good, or for ill, they define us, as individuals and as a society.
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