And I’ll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I’ll know my name as it’s called again
~The Cave, Marcus Mumford
“It’s empty in the valley of your heart.” Philosopher and poet Marcus Mumford penned these words. Little did the lead man of the band Mumford and Sons know he was summing up so much of my story.
My primary residence for much of my life has been a cave, a cavern absent of light. It was decorated with picture perfect moments of shame and Polaroid snapshots of disappointment. It is made cozy and comfortable by the fear failing. It is neatly kept tidy by the nervous belief that I was never enough.
I have held the same emotional address since I was a boy. Occasionally visiting the land of light just return home to the well worn space in the dark. It is an interesting thing that when all you know is darkness you have a fear of light. But light was the longing and light was the enemy.
Shame shackled me to the lie that life had to always be this way because it seemingly has always been this way. So rather run to the life giving source of radiant rays that break into the mouth of the cave I would retreat from them. The sources of shame echo off the deep cavern walls reminding me of the image I saw of myself. An image that could never be worth loving, worthy of success, worth more of life than what was currently being offered to me. It was life where the little bit offered was enough. Not because it was enough but mostly because I failed to believe that I was.
You may ask yourself “how do you become cave dweller?”
It is quite simple, you quit risking being seen. Cave dwellers live everyday normal lives. They attend church, jobs, and school functions like everyone else. They marry and raise kids. While the physical exterior is on display, who they truly are stays hidden in the cave. It is not a physical facility for the body, but an emotional prison for the heart.
Cave living is quite simply not letting the world see your true self because the fear of exposure tells you no one will love you, accept you and give you what you need.
It is a true paradox. I would remain hidden while my greatest desire was to be seen. I would remain lonely while all I wanted was to be loved. I stayed in the shadows of pain instead stepping into the light to find healing.
It said of Adam before taking the forbidden fruit of the garden he was naked and unashamed. He lived in the open, seen by Eve, the animals and God. The moment he takes the fruit that God forbid shame enters the story.
What no one tells you about darkness of shame is that numbs you to the light. The cave becomes a place where feeling are negotiable. You shut down the feelings of hurt, pain and disappointment. But what I never knew is I was exchanging the absence of those emotions for the feelings of joy, happiness and love. As long as I could guard the hurt I wouldn’t feel, but then I began to feel nothing at all.
At the age of now 39, I finally realized that neighborhood I had called home for so long was no longer ideal. I knew I would have to quit. The cave has all the comforts of New York City 500 square foot studio apartment shared with 4 starving artist and singer who thinks she will make it on Broadway. It’s charming for a minute, but no place to call home. I knew I had to leave. I knew I need to move out.
And I came to the same crossroads in the cavern I had reached so many times “this is not the life I want, but I don’t know how to leave”.
It started surrounding myself with three little words “I AM ENOUGH”. Well to be honest, those three words were sprinkled in a book I for some reason ordered off Amazon called Daring Greatly by shame researcher Brene Brown.
I had no intentions on reading a book on shame. I was trying to build a better performance so no one would see the hurt. The cave teaches you to be a great liar. You lie to yourself. You lie to others. You’ll lie to the dog simply to avoid the truth being seen. But as the author unpacked story after story, theme after theme, the reflection in the mirror was me. And the me I saw was filled with this poison called shame.
Day after day I would ink my hand with those three words. I would scribble in dry erase marker over the mirror where the man I had been stared back at the man I was trying to become. The stacks and stacks of stones representing moments of life I had seen as hurt and harm that laid at the front of the mouth of the cave were now being removed one by one with the belief that the words of hurt they did not define me.
As I journeyed up the deep cavern to the place of light, I found a guide to help get me out. That guide began to teach that being enough was enough, but there was a more than enough that my life contained. I literally had to retrain my brain to take steps out of the darkness into the light of life. The mixtape of my brain would be on repeat with the negative words and hurtful moments that had filled my traveling bags into the cave. In order to move out meant leaving behind those heavy trunks of entrapment.
I had to force my brain to reframe the thoughts that played like a needle stuck on the scratch of a vinyl record. The thoughts of hurt, harm, and beliefs of being not enough didn’t simply need to be removed. They had to be replaced. One of the writers of the bible said it this way:
whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.
My guide literally had to force me to start telling myself the truth. Scribbled filled pages began to become my new voice as I battled the devils in my own head that called me out to me proclaiming I was not enough or I was unworthy or not lovable. I had to undo years of patterns of thinking. I had to unconvince myself of lies and believe the truth.
So my truths on those pages began to look like this:
Yes, mom and dad divorce but they still authentically love me.
Yes I have fallen short of dreams and goals, but the truth is a I am gifted, talented and called by God.
Sure, I am hurt and broken, but I am worthy of healing.
I have failed in many ways, but the truth is it does not make me a failure.
I have fallen short of God, but the truth is God still loves me.
I am divorced, but not disqualified from God using me.
I am a good father, friend, follower of Jesus.
And on and on the truths were written, spoken and believed. And with penned and spoken belief, I began to move out of the mouth of the cave, step by step, into the light facing the greatest fear of my life being completely seen. As truth became my anthem, the man looking back at me between the expo marker and the looking glass was the man I had longed to see. The hurt boy, damaged teenage kid and devastated son had found truth and truth set me free from the cave.
My new address is one of security, confidence, and love. I have cried more tears in the last 6 months than in the previous 30 years. With the tears came the ability to feel joy and love, hurt and empathy. At many times they happened at the same moment.
I have found love and life in a beautiful woman. I have found certainty in my calling. I peace with myself and those who hurt me. More than anything, I have found assurance in who God calls me. He calls me son and I am secure and safe calling him Father.
The cave will always loom darkly in my past but it will never be an address I desire to move back into. Because who the son sets free is free indeed. And I am happy to be free.
‘Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I’ll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind
Marcus Mumford, The Cave
