The Hiding Place

I have discovered that there is a problem with writing a blog where the main theme is vulnerability. You can’t really promote vulnerability without being vulnerable, can you?

I have a kind of distrust for people that attempt to do just that. I don’t like it when someone promotes the sharing of brokenness and weakness, yet doesn’t share their own brokenness or weakness. Maybe I am being too unkind. Maybe people like that really do have the best intentions. Maybe. But I don’t like the culture that it creates; a distinct separateness between the “strong” and “weak”, between the “broken” and the “put together”, between the “helper” and the “helped”. It makes for some interesting power dynamics. But I digress…

But what do I write when I don’t want to be vulnerable?

What happens when someone who writes on being seen, wants to hide?

What do you do when you want to connect…but you don’t want to connect?

You are human, so of course you crave connection with other humans. But what happens when your craving for connection conflicts with the fear of the risk associated with seeking connection?

The hiding place feels safer at first. In that place I can hide from bad advice, the invalidation of my emotions, people misunderstanding me, the mislabeling, the false judgements etc.

I have a strong flight response. When it all gets too much, the temptation to run and hide is incredibly strong. I am good at hiding. And it’s so easy to do, especially in our culture of busyness.

People are often too busy; too preoccupied, too tired, to go looking for those who are lost. Usually we wait until people reach out to us. It becomes a game of chicken – who will flinch first? Will someone reach out for help, or will someone reach out to help? We say that we are being empowering to people, but it’s really because we are too preoccupied to reach out to them. We don’t see them. When was the last time you slowed down to look at people, I mean really see them?

This makes it too easy for people to hide in plain sight: in their cozy hiding place. People hide behind the walls of their homes, behind their jobs, behind their spirituality, behind their hobbies, behind their devices, behind their gender, behind their age, behind their jokes, behind their schedules, behind their spouse, behind their children, behind a curated persona, behind their busyness.

But the hiding place is a lonely place.

You and I cannot stay there forever. In the hiding place. At some point we will need to come out. I know that. You know that. We all know that the hiding place should only ever really be a temporary respite. Not a permanent home. We could wait until someone comes looking for us. But, realistically (in our so-called busy culture), how long could that take? And let me give a voice to that silent fear of yours you dare not whisper … what if no one comes? Who will come looking if everyone is hiding? It takes bravery to go looking for someone, just as it takes bravery to come out of hiding. Maybe you and I, intrepid reader, need to be the brave ones?