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Healing Shame

7/1/2018

2 Comments

 
Picture
Sunshine
“Okay, guys, line up,” coach Johnson bellowed. “ You - Smith - at the head of the line, start the count by shouting out ‘one.’ Then Williams, you’re ‘two’ and so on down the line. Even numbers will be shirts and will cover this goal. Odd numbers will be skins.”
 
“Three, four, five…” the boys ahead of me counted.

I leaned out of line and counted heads to see if I would be even or odd. If I knew ahead of time I could switch places with Mickey. He knew I hated to be skins and would change places with me.
 
“Six, seven, eight…” the count continued.
 
Darn, I’ll be odd! There’s not enough time to switch.
 
“Thirteen,” my voice quivered. I peeled off my t-shirt, the armor that cloaked the shame of my partially naked body, and ran to the far court. The other boys saw my bony arms and chest that was so flat; I could squeeze between our basement furnace and a column to retrieve an errant Ping-Pong ball. No wonder Uncle Wally called me Spider.
 
“Okay, Sunshine,” coach Johnson shouted as he heaved a basketball toward me with his .50-caliber-machine-gun-arms. The cannonball shot between my BB-gun-arms, slammed into my chest, and knocked me to the floor.
 
What’s wrong with me?  If only I could look and act like the muscle man in the Charles Atlas comic book ad who kicks sand in the face of a 97-pound weakling. If I were a real man I would punch Mr. Johnson in the face.
 
“Let’s pick it up, Sunshine,” he said. “I’ve never seen such skinny arms. Let’s put some meat on those bones.”
 
I dribbled my burden toward the shirts.
 
Holes Of Light
This song is written for those who feel shame, to support healing. Composed for piano in the key of C Major, Lydian mode.
 
Do you see
Holes of light
In the walls
     Around us?
 
 Wounds are there,
Unaware,
Of the shame
     Within us.
 
Shots to hearts,
Missed their mark,
Not enough
     To kill us.
 
Light is where
Truth is dear.
Heal the hurt
     Between us.
 
If this essay is meaningful, please like or tweet below or leave a comment. Thank you for your interest and possible action you may take.
 
Richard Wilberg, MS, PLCC, ACC 
Life Coach for Personal Fulfillment and Career Success
​
2 Comments
Francie Corry
7/3/2018 01:26:08 pm

Richard,
Of all your writing, which I appreciate so much, this is my favorite. When one exposes their own vulnerability it gives others permission to do the same. Your essay speaks to the universal, the shame that we carry and what we perceive to be our inadequacies. I think of how skinny I was as a young woman and how market I was by my peers.

What the coach says for you to “be a real man” I think that a real man is one who exposes his own vulnerability. Who can be real in front of a crowd.

When you write in the song lyrics about holes in the wall, I am curious. I think of Leonard Cohen‘s song, The Anthem, “Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering, there is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

The lyrics remind me both of this and also the pain of the cracks. Thank you so much for sharing this, Richard.

Reply
Richard
7/8/2018 02:48:48 pm

Francie,
I’m pleased you want to share your vulnerability. When we let the light in we heal. You are the second person to ask about “Holes of Light” and ask if I was inspired or motivated by the Cohen song. Many of my ideas come from my clients, as was this one. He had finished reading a book and described a scene of two men in a battlefield. They had to get across an open field. The enemy was raking the field with gunfire. They chose to hide in a box that had been the target of previous gunfire. As they sat in the box and prepared to run for other cover, they noticed the holes of light from the prior bullet holes when the box had been a target before. I thought the box was a perfect metaphor for how our shelter or wisdom from the bullets that fly at us today could be the target or place of previous attacks. And, the holes of light represent what we see to allow us to move beyond where we are now. So we can find safety and growth in a place that was previously attacked by going to that place to learn and then move on.

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    I write personal essays, creative non-fiction, flash fiction, and self-development articles from my home in  Madison, Wisconsin.

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