Are You Participating in a Cover-Up?

Sometimes it’s easier for me to be mad or pissed off than fearful. Easier to judge others than to allow all the unsavory feelings that come with vulnerability.

A few days ago, I woke up obsessing about someone from long ago, someone from whom I had felt rejected.

I was like, What the heck? This is in the past. It’s no longer relevant.

As my husband often says, I was “chewing on old gum.” Ewww.

So I did what I do when I wake up with discursive thinking. I got up and prayed. I changed the scene.

In yoga, they call this pratyahara. Such a helpful tool. It’s like changing the channel when the show gets too boring, scary, or disturbing.

And then tuning in to Ted Lasso. Or Dancing with the Stars. Guaranteed positivity!

As I changed the scene and stopped feeding double-chocolate cookies to my negative thoughts, lo and behold, I had an epiphany.

Ahhh. The power of prayer.

Through grace, I was able to spit out the old gum. But then I was paralyzed with fear and anxiety.

Not exactly a tasty alternative. But it certainly had a lot of flavor. And it was the foundational truth.

I have some major medical tests coming up, along with another trip to Mayo Clinic in the next few weeks.

And I am, indeed, petrified. Scared. Feeling out of control. Definitely weary.

I decided not to carry my revelation alone, so I shared my current truth with my husband.

Most notably: this paralyzing fear. He met me with support and permission. And with his permission, I let loose.

But this time, I wasn’t blinded by rage or judgmental thoughts. I was aware that they had been acting as the ultimate cover-up.

And man, did it feel good to let it out.

We were driving during this discussion, and the road rage was flowing. I really got into the dramatics, and my language was rather… “colorful,” shall we say.

At one point, I had to make a phone call and was met with AI and a ridiculous series of ##%% questions.

I called her every name in the book. My potty mouth was unleashed! It was hard not to laugh. And we did. And then, somehow, I was restored to peace.

Serenity. Back to the gift of surrender. Back to faith. Back to being present. Back to remembering that I don’t control the outcomes of this medical journey I’ve been on for four years.

Believe me, I have tried everything under the sun. And so here we are.

Rather appropriate as we enter the Halloween season.

The costumes we wear. The masks. All in an attempt to distract us from our truth.

Our cover-ups are incredibly creative. And, in many ways, they deserve some celebration.

They have helped us survive. They have helped us get through harrowing ordeals. They can protect us. They can even protect other people.

Who wants a pilot freaking out during turbulence?!

Internally, the pilot might be losing it. But the strong, confident cape is certainly welcomed and necessary.

There are so many delicious ways we cover ourselves up. The problem comes when we lose sight of the fact that we are actually covering something up. It might be what my sister Heidi calls “the busy disease.”

We keep ourselves so darn busy because underneath the busyness we might be sad, lonely, grieving, unhappy, insecure, or simply exhausted.

It might be the person who becomes intensely focused on their body as a way of managing deeper pain or vulnerability. The workaholic who doesn’t feel like they are enough. The person who constantly takes care of everyone else so they don’t have to feel what is happening inside themselves.

There are so many ways we learn to compensate, distract, protect, and avoid. So what can we do about all of this?

If we’re experiencing unhelpful thoughts or big emotions, notice them. Maybe even write them down. And get curious.

If an emotion feels completely out of control or unstoppable, change the channel:

Get out of bed. Pray. Play loud, fun music. Call a lively friend. Eat a healthy meal or snack. Move your body. Change the scene.

And when you’re able, play with the cover-up. Let your creativity flow. Draw the mask. Decorate one. Write about it. Play with the image of the cape.

What does it look like? What does it smell like? What does it protect? What might be underneath it? If you’re able, write about it or talk about it. Those two things can bring us toward clarity.

The truth doesn’t always feel good. But there can be a powerful release when we come face-to-face with our truth.

You might cry. Like, really cry. You might feel a lot of anger. You might need to scream into a pillow or punch one. And then cry some more.

If you’ve ever witnessed a child have a full-blown tantrum, you’ve witnessed release. It’s not uncommon for them to become quite giggly afterward. Or fall asleep.

Sometimes those tantrums are doozies.

My children had a few two-hour tantrums in their younger years. Big feelings. Big releases.

And sometimes what looks like a complete emotional unraveling is simply a nervous system trying to move through something.

It is the dance of avoidance that keeps the flames burning.

The patterns continue. And so do the consequences.

Is this easy? Ummm… no.

This requires big doses of courage. And practice. But I promise you this:

There is something incredibly freeing about telling the truth to yourself. About noticing the mask. About recognizing the cape. About realizing that the anger, the busyness, the perfectionism, the judgment, the overdoing, the distraction, or whatever your particular cover-up might be… may have been protecting something much more tender underneath.

And perhaps the goal isn’t to rip the cover-up away. Perhaps the goal is to thank it.

It helped you survive. It got you through. And then, when you’re ready, you can gently set it down.

Because underneath all those costumes and masks is the person you’ve been trying so hard to protect. And maybe that person is ready to breathe. Ready to feel. Ready to tell the truth. Ready for peace.

The peace I know you are longing for. The peace we are all longing for.