Skeletons in my closet
Woah-oh, woah-oh yeah
Skeletons in my closet
Skeletons in my closet,
Skeletons in my shoes,
Skeletons I can only see,
Skeletons I can lose….
Skeletons in my basement, loitering on my streets, wearing my best pyjamas, sandwiched between my sheets….Donna? We want you! Donna, Donna! D-Donna, D-Donna, D-Donna, D-Donna?
~To paraphrase Alice Cooper (doubt he’d mind, he’s probably golfing).
The best thing about humans, we’re complex.
The worst thing about humans, we’re complex.
If we’re honest, we all have some skeletons in our closets.
Maybe not stuff you’d see on The Sopranos, Sons of Anarchy, Game of Thrones and hopefully nothing that would show up in a Stephen King novel. Just things we did that we wish we hadn’t done. Things we wish we hadn’t said. Things we’d like to hide away and forget ever happened.
We should show some love for those skeletons. They remind us of: tough times, poor judgment, mistakes, moments of weakness, intolerance, indifference, cruelty. Mine remind me of how far I’ve come and how much I’ve learned. Why not just live with them, make peace with our poor choices and our demons? They’re a part of us.
I know, I know, it’s more comfortable ignore the skeletons and think about, talk about, glory in the times when we did wonderful things.
When we showed kindness, empathy. When we built someone up and made someone feel better. Helped. Comforted. Supported. Cared. Loved.
But what about those times when we didn’t?
Most monsters are born of pain, despair, sorrow, loneliness, neglect, abuse, greed, apathy, and horrors.
As you grow older, you begin to care much less about pleasing others and worrying about what people think.
They’re going to think what they think.
You can try and try, but you can’t please everyone.
If you’re controlled by the past, how can you enjoy the present?
I’d rather have my skeletons out there, dancing (hey, they’re not bad dancers) than judging others and being a hypocrite.
It doesn’t matter who or where you come from and choices you’ve made, what matters is who you choose to be from now on.
We worry so much about skeletons while we have monsters to wrestle each day: pain, loss, hopes dashed, conflict, poverty, illness, loneliness, anger, disappointment, frustration, guilt. Make peace with the monsters so they don’t hurt others, even inadvertently.
One of my monsters is chronic illness. It fights to stop me from enjoying life and I do my warrior princess cry (in my head, it would be extremely disruptive to do it out loud) and fight back. I’ve lost a lot, but in the end, I show my monsters some compassion, they’re a part of me.
As long as no one gets hurt, invite your monsters and skeletons for a cup of tea and comfort…or wine…or coffee…or maybe something stronger depending on how long they’ve been in the closet. Don’t forget to offer them cookies, cake, and ummm, snow cones?
I wake up every morning to a monster in my room.
I try to speak to it, but it runs away too soon.
It sneaks in while I sleep, to hide behind my bed.
I can hear it breathing; does it want me dead?
What is it doing? Is it playing games?
I sip some tea and finally see,
that lovely monster is part of…me.