Naked
I once wrote an article about my life that went viral. It led to a contract writing position with a prominent media company. I loved it. Being recognized by a "real" company that saw potential in my writing was amazing. As time went on I realized that they would be paying me for my soul. I would be exchanging money for a retelling of painful memories. I would become a vehicle for more subscribers on their platform. A piece of bait to show advertisements. I wrote my first article, thought about it for a while, and eventually withdrew myself from the endeavor and asked them not to publish it. I threw the opportunity away. And I'm sure glad I did.
Blogging anonymously is a way to befriend myself. A way to honor the magic of my life that happens every day without worrying about what someone might think. Perhaps someday I'll feel comfortable enough to share these words without a pen name; no need to rush these things. For most of my life I've approached writing and producing content as a means to an end. Here are some recurring thoughts that are easy for me to pull from the old thinky brain:
- "Maybe people will realize how I smart I am!"
- "I wonder what my parents will think when they read this."
- "Will my wife get mad at me when she reads this?"
- "If I nail this, it will prove that I deserve to be heard."
Tough stuff baby. And that's only a sampling. Essentially, I've seen myself as valuable only if I make something of "quality" which "people" acknowledge. Turns out it's really hard to be yourself when you're constantly afraid of what people might think.
Little kids don't do this. They don't constantly worry about what other people think. They don't give a shit what you think. They'll happily scream and yell in the middle of a restaurant. They also have no problem running around naked and delighting in the smell of flowers and the feel of grass under their feet. At some point our brains develop to the point where shame enters the system. And it really fucks with us.
But over the last decade I've started fucking with shame.
I'm learning to trust myself. Which is pretty hard for someone who's had the idea that Jesus is the only one who can be trusted. The Christian church is a practiced purveyor of shame. There's this barely-hidden message behind the Jesus propaganda machine: "you're a piece of shit and you need saving." Which is really fucking confusing for a kid whose whole existence is tied up in the present moment thinking, "I wonder if this dirt will taste good?"
I've spent so much of life thinking the men who led the church I grew up in knew something I didn't. With words behind words, they told me that if I memorized the bible more, if I prayed harder, if I did more acts of service, if I loved Jesus more, then I'd finally by happy. Surprise surprise, it didn't work! Turns out I already had what they'd lost.
I've come to believe that the genesis story is a poetic revelation of the coming of shame.
"They were naked and unashamed."
Well, fuck me. That sounds nice! I feel like Christian churches could do well for themselves if they had a sermon on that. Imagine with me: the old man approaches the podium. With poise and dignity he begins his short message:
Please open your bibles with me to Genesis. "They were naked an unashamed." Peace and nakedness and great sex be with you. Amen. Please join us after church for a nude potluck lunch.
I'm being cheeky, but perhaps you get the idea. The whole bible is rooted in the idea that we are born naked and free. The idea that "sin" infected humanity has been weaponized. What I'm coming to believe is that God actually writes his "laws" on our hearts, and if we really steer people toward their own heart, they'll find Her/Him (yes, the bible says God has breasts).