Lately I've been giving a bit of thought to the secret lives we keep. More like, if our lives were to be considered a soundtrack- a composition of melodic stories and cover art, they too would contain hidden tracks. What elements of our lives do we keep hidden, perhaps protected? What, if anything, do we keep purely for ourselves and no one else?

Surely we must all have those ritual practices... those exercises that make us feel a little more like ourselves, a little more alive or at peace. And maybe it's the child like play: singing into hairbrushes and practicing our air guitar, acting out scenes from the make believe film that we see as our life. Maybe we're all just living Pinocchios and Peter Pans, challenging a world requiring us to grow up and become certain things. And perhaps we're all playing at something in these secret little lives we keep- these hidden tracks intended for our ears only. Because at the end of the day, we can only fully know ourselves. And regardless of how complicated or confused or essentially screwed up we are, there's a kind of comfort in these hidden moments. In these hidden moments we are the most authentic versions of ourselves, and most of the time, it's easier to share that truest form in the private delicacy of our make believe realms.

Someone once told me that not everything is meant to be shared with others. Some things are meant to be saved and kept for ourselves. And just ourselves. But then I wonder, in finding love or a life's companion, how much of that sacred space do we give up, or rather share with another? Do we in fact end up melding these two lives into a twisting web of its own making? Or can we actually hold onto those hidden tracks while still giving fully and vulnerably to another? At what point are we with holding from someone else in attempts to keep things so intimately our own?

We write in journals, day dream and create fictional stories whether in our minds or on paper... we have revelations and thoughts of significance... and perhaps the difference is recognizing the moments in which something has greater value only when shared with another versus being complete on its own... with only me having come to know of it.

I guess it just feels like a struggle- to hold onto things that are so completely and uniquely yours. Especially in a world where we're so set on making connections and fostering relationships. I'm not sure how you negotiate the two.

Anyway, more to come...