Great friendships are formed not so we can be somebody, but so we can be ourselves.
~ Al Van Dyk – Husband, Father, Renaissance Man and Average Joe
I have a secret, in fact, I have many. I’m sure that I am not the only one who keeps their past guarded, zipped up tighter than Newman’s mailbag. It’s okay. I really don’t need to know about your past and I presume that you will offer me the same smattering of grace. If there is something that I am hiding from you and you are hiding from me, we are equals, would you agree? But what if we are not supposed to keep our past a secret? What if The Story of our Lives is Not a Secret to Hold but a Story to be Told?
Secrets Equalize
I have Parkinson’s. Okay, it’s not much of a secret. It has been one of the worst kept secrets, ranking right up there with tips on how to get in on the initial public offering of High Times. In the case of those coveted stocks, as long as the company can keep their dirt a secret, their silence is the great equalizer putting both of us on a level playing field. As long as there are enough stocks to go around, we are both good with each other. If neither you nor I have inside information, there is parity between us, but if I know something that you don’t, no such parity exists. And where there is no parity, there is no peace.
There is something appealing about maintaining secrecy. We can make assumptions about what secrets others hold close, and choose to let them into our world or keep them at bay. On a recent trip, I needed to catch a cab to the airport. On the way, the driver and I started to make small talk to fill the awkward silence in the car. Out of curiosity, I asked the driver how long he had been driving. He responded, “Only a few months.” Next, he proceeded to tell me that he had just retired from a high-level position in one of the many branches of government that conduct secret missions all around the world. As he was speaking, my mind must have drifted a bit because the only thing I remember saying when he asked me what I do for a living was “Yeah, me too.”
What are the chances that two people that spent their entire careers doing top-secret work all around the world would meet in a taxi in an undisclosed city traveling to an airport that I am not at liberty to identify? In hindsight, I have my doubts the driver believed me.
Secrets Protect
Not all of the secrets that we keep are for our protection, some we keep for the protection of those we care about. We think that we can protect them from what they may see or hear. Case in point, a friend invited me to have breakfast with him. Even though I have only known him for a relatively short time, there is an uncommon transparency in our relationship. I am not sure how or why it happened so quickly, but it did.
He knew the highlights of my life but I knew very little about his. Growing up in a bubble, I had the misconception that those with whom I cross paths lived in a similar bubble. When he began to share with me his story, he kept me at the treetops, never delving into the details. Yet he said enough for me to appreciate his candor and openness, and in doing so, conveyed this powerful message: We all have a story, and it’s likely that it is much different from what others think that it is.
The next few minutes felt like hours, as he took pieces of my story that I had shared with him and weaved them together into a picture of someone I didn’t recognize; one of a person with tenacity and resolve, who brings with him a message of hope. Ironically it’s these same attributes, that I am drawn to in those I respect and admire, that he found in my story. He left me with this challenge — It’s time to let go, it’s time to tell my story.
Secrets Destroy
There are a few people that I was once very close to, that I never told that I had Parkinson’s. I just drifted off. I let my secret, as poorly kept as it is, destroy my friendships. I let my secret take the place of transparency for reasons that still elude me.
I have a story, one that has taken me places I never intended to go and to impact others and be impacted in ways that I never thought possible. How can, or why should, I deny a narrative that few can fathom and far fewer could endure. But then again, there are so many more, like my friend, that lived through pain and abuse on a scale that I cannot fathom and am doubtful that I could endure.
Secrets Revealed
I have a secret, in fact, I have many. But so do most, if not all, of you. In all honesty, the jury is still out as far as what I will do with them. In the past, I used them to build walls, so impenetrable that they could withstand a band of rogue Trojans fleeing from a defunct trade-school in California. Now, those same barriers seem unnatural and unhealthy. So, now what?
Can I live with shallow and superficial friendships based on half-truths, tall tales, or is it tails, and outright lies? Do I take my cues from the likes of C. S. Lewis, and other dead European Inklings? Or should I opt for a hip, soulless, contemporary voice of our time? Funny, John Boehner never came to mind as hip or contemporary.
Welcome to my extraordinary life! Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing!
Good Idea, Ivy, we can sell our story, and T-shirts, too. Do you want to go on tour — to California? You do realize that California is still part of AmeriKa?
Al and his faithful, and intercontinental sidekick, Ivy the wonder pup.
Nice catch on the spelling error, Ivy. It’s good to see that all those years of homeschooling paying off.