common secrets

i'm reading Anne Lamott's book Plan B Further Thoughts on Faith and she writes that "nothing helps like letting your ugly common secrets out." and i wanted to scream - Yes! Yes! - but thought the elderly ladies at the table next to me might be scared into heaven at my sudden outburst. but for me that is it in a nutshell, the vein of my existence. perhaps a bit melodramatic, i realize, but i feel so strongly about it. for as long as i can remember there has been a thought in me that could not be put down adequately into words. anne lamott just sealed it so beautifully for me.

as a waitress i've been able to hone in a skill i call 'inner dialogue'. in fact, to wait on tables you have to have this skill along with a fresh, clean filter that holds your inner dialogue from coming out and causing the customer to cough and sputter. your filter serves to only let words that are fresh and flowering smelling come out regardless of the inner dialogue going on. (i would highly recommend Debra Ginsberg's book Waiting which has made me so aware of what i do each night at the table)

let me give you some examples. when i come to a table and they ask me for sesame bread sticks i have to insist with total sincerity that not only do i not mind coming back to their table for the upteeth time but it would be my heart's desire to bring them back bread sticks that they could have asked me to bring when they asked me to bring them lemons for their water which could have been asked for when they asked for more water which could have been asked for when they asked for a clean glass and have now made this my fifth trip to the table in the last two minutes but hey, whose counting. this sarcasm all remains hidden neath a veil, a thin veil i will admit that is subject at times to being pulled off by the right customer or combination of factors (cooks in foul moods, dishwashers moving too slow, busboys who have disappeared and left tables covered with dirty dishes and missing water pitchers and customers who think they are the only table and the restaurant is their personal home dining room). nor do i communicate any feelings but my deepest apologies to the woman who seems put out because the new girl brought her the wrong size salad plate but who, for our sakes, of course, will manage to eat it though she is clearly not okay. i do not communicate to her amidst her sighs and glares that i would like to see her get up off her rear end and learn an 8 page menu with 2 inserts and remember which sandwiches come with soup, which sandwiches come with soup or salad, which sandwiches you offer just fries or you also give them the choice or zucchini or onion rings or fries or remember which dinner gets the large salad that she is so in need of or get the small salads which she is choosing, despite my many repeated offers to bring her a larger one or offer her something else, to eat. i also do not suggest that she place the salad bowl, salad intact with blue cheese dressing, upon her head as i'm sure it would make for a finer dining experience or at the very least make me feel better. thankfully, my filter functions most nights or at least holds up till i get to the back and can of course share my wounds with those who understand.

but see to put this out there, to say that on any given night i think mean and awful thoughts toward people while presenting an image of a person who is genuinely concerned with their dining pleasure and not simply for monetary reasons is like what we do with so many of our 'secret sins' or 'feelings of shame/regret/failure' or whatever else it is that haunts us or we struggle with. and in the maintaining a spiritual filter we isolate ourselves and give more power to that which we try so hard to break free of. i'm not suggesting we all stand up at the next service and reveal every deep and dark secret and sin but merely that we begin within our own unique communities of friends and families and co-workers to have open and honest discussions about our faith and our failures, both our belief and dis-belief in God, to share our moments of sainthood and be honest about our moments of sinnerness (if that's a word).

i think the world is looking for transparency. i think the world just wants to know that their secrets are shared. i think they want to see our lives as they are, broken and wonderful, good and bad, maybe a faith that struggles, but one that is holding on like Jacob of old and refusing to let go and when they do, i think something inside will holler out in them - Yes! Yes!