The Furious Spinner

I recently read a complaint on someone's website that went something like this: "People say things on weblogs they would never say outloud to family and friends yet they subject strangers to their innermost demons." In the first place, I thought, no one is forced to read the weblogs. In the second place, I'm not sure it's true—maybe it is in some cases. I've discussed here before what I'll write about and what I won't. I don't reveal any secrets. I don't betray confidences. If I write about other people, I have either asked their permission or I don't give their names. I don't write my deepest darkest secrets or fears. No one needs to hear those.

But I do write about what frightens, angers, and saddens me. I write about passion and illness, about love and death and suffering. I don't believe there is sainthood in suffering—or suffering silently. In fact, I think silence breeds more silence. As a society and individuals, we need to talk about our suffering. I don't mean we should sit around whining, but we should be able to speak our truth outloud to ourselves and others. What is so honorable about putting a happy face on terrible things?

We need to talk about what's happening with the environment and then act on it. We need to talk about the suffering happening around the planet because of war, misogyny, and disease, and then decide how to act. We need to talk about the prevalence of chronic diseases. We need to find out why so many people are suffering with these illnesses. The solution is not to medicate and then sweep the ill under the proverbial carpet. By being silent about our suffering we add to the problem: if people don't see what's happening, they will not act to stop it.

A couple of years ago I was at a restaurant with several other people, and they began talking about a woman I did not know. She had been seriously hurt in a car accident. Everyone agreed she was an incredible woman: because she was silent in her suffering! I was appalled. This woman was elevated to near sainthood because she kept her mouth shut and didn't let the others around her know how terrible things were for her. Yeah, well, great for them, but what about this woman? Maybe she was so damn silent because she didn't feel like anyone would listen to her. Maybe no one would sit with her and just let her speak her truth.

The truth is profoundly beautiful, no matter how ugly it is.

Now let us be prepared to hear it. 0 comments

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