Secret Garden

If you took all the people who think they know me, put them in a room and asked each one some secret they knew about me, what would their answers be?

Wrong.

Not even those who know me best really know me.

I am a tangled web of emotions and convoluted thinking. My innermost thoughts are mine alone, because when I speak them aloud they  can cause trouble. I keep quiet on most of my political, religious and social beliefs to avoid argument. I need to suppress my feelings so as not to injure yours, or to keep from scaring you away.

Of all those in that room, not one--not one--knows me.

I am not being deceitful, just private. I need to know there are places in my mind where I can go and wallow in my dreams of notoriety or riches or magic. It's the one time when being alone isn't lonely. It simply is.

Look in a mirror.  Do you see a person who is totally honest with the world, or even with one other person?  No, you see a person who has unshared thoughts, so personal that they won't even share with themselves.

I believe God gave us a mind that can dream, fantasize and record simple memories and pleasures so that we are never alone and so that we always have one thing that truly belongs to us. 

It's a secret garden where we plant only the things that energize us, make us happy, give us life and make us smile. It's a place where we can shut the door and disappear for a little while.

If I have let you in to my being, it is because I trust you. I have learned, however, that no one is allowed into the secret garden. 

I'm not alone, I simply am.