Once upon a time, in a garden far, far away, two kids ran around naked all the time. They laughed together and made plans. They helped each other explore and understand the mystery and the magic of their home where judgement, expectations and hiding weren’t things yet. And because of that, the kids were inseparable.
When they weren’t chasing each other around the garden, the kids relaxed beside still waters where they, and other gentle creatures, gave thanks for the shade of giant flowers and unbridled daydreams. No fear. No shame. Just peace and love and contentment in every corner of existence. Until there wasn’t.
Somewhere along the way, the kids discovered that they were separate and different, one from the other. But in an unfortunate twist of thought, “separate and different” became “better and worse.” Over time, their nakedness—that beautiful, innocent, pure expression of humanity— faded away like an early morning fog. From then on, they looked suspiciously at each other, and their differences became deficits and flaws. They compared themselves to each other. And with that came judgement: Who’s best?
Trying to deliver themselves from the pain of this tragedy, the kids blamed each other for why and how they were different, for how they were better or worse than the other. They contrived elaborate schemes to cover their nakedness, to avoid being seen as they really were. They fought to look and feel better about themselves and to the other creatures around them. Fortresses of fear and anger and lies and competition sprang up around their hearts. They separated. These kids who once ran and played and dreamed and loved so well together, hid behind fig leaves of isolation, blame-shifting and fear. Now they were exposed. Suddenly being human— “naked”— no longer felt safe. The dark fog of shame rolled in. And just like that, life in the garden was changed forever.
Whether you believe this story is literal or allegorical, the message is the same: Shame kills; it eviscerates relationships. Shame steals; it guts authenticity. And shame destroys; on a global scale, peace doesn’t stand a chance. Whereas, in the absence of shame, we flourish on every level.
What’s your experience with shame? Are you hiding behind fig leaves like the kids in the garden? If so, which leaves, and why? Or are you running around naked as the person you really are and truly want to be? If that’s the case, how did you get there?
If you’d like to share your thoughts with our Naked community here on The Porch, please be respectful, encouraging, optimistic, sensible and kind. Otherwise, The Porch isn’t for you. Not because I don’t care about everyone, but because I do.
Help me start the conversation of a lifetime: F*ck shame. Be naked.
