I love everything about this photo taken nearly eleven years ago so I’ve kept it. I hate everything about this photo so I’ve hidden it.
Let’s talk about it.
My Secret Garden
I love the moment of the experience.
I can see the moment in my minds eye: the experience, romance, passion, submission and love shared between one soul to another loving, beautiful soul. I know precisely when and where this picture was taken.
I know why it was taken.
The bohemian, romantic, hedonistic idealist poet in me loves everything about this photo and the symbolism.
I hate the moment of the experience.
I can see the moment in my minds eye: the betrayal, lies, shame, remorse, pain and damage done by one soul to other beautiful, loving souls. I know precisely when and where I should have been when this was taken.
The principled, pragmatic, honest loving person in me hates everything about this photo and the symbolism.
Tending One’s Garden
I won’t hide these moments again. I won’t hide my truth. I will share those things with the people that are willing to recognize its value to growth. I can only own what is true, not what others imagine is true.
If I invite someone into my secret garden it is because I want to share something with them. If they prove they cannot be trusted I will weed them out. The garden is mine to tend. I set the boundaries.
The story behind this moment is personal and private but if it is meaningful and true to my story. I hide my truth because Shame fears rejection, ridicule, abandonment, and judgement. If my choices are made from a place of truth than their may be fear but not shame.
A man cannot live one life fully split between two moments, two gardens. Inevitably they both will be overtaken with weeds. As I continue to tend my garden I recognize we reap what we sow. There are still weeds in my garden. There will always be weeds and they are my weeds.
I planted these. I will tend to them.
My Secret Garden
I love C still and cannot go back.