Words & Language: February 2006 Archives

One of my all time favorite blogs is postsecret. On this website they post scans of post cards, sent anonymously, each containing a secret. They are sad, funny, and sometimes disturbing. This year they published a book which I recently picked up. As I flipped through the book, marking my favorites, I found myself saddened that more of the submitters didn't have anyone in their life to share their secrets with.

I believe the sadness I felt, allegedly viewing someone else's secrets, is really a reflection of my own sadness. While I imagine that I feel sad that the baptist minister's wife can't tell someone that she doesn't believe in God, the bigger truth is that I am sad that I am so full of stories that I am unwilling to share.

I have started to make my own postcard to send in to the postsecret web site on more than one occasion. I always find myself stuck; which secrets and how do I represent it best? The blank space on the card becomes a prison rather than a window.

If we become our own myths, is it possible that my hesitance to actively participate in the making of my own myth will result in delays in my personal development?

Tiny Daisies (Pretending it's Spring), originally uploaded by djwudi.

Reading that makes me long for both spring and having hair.