When I was a child, I told my mother I wanted to be a nun. She slapped me. If only she had asked why I had said that, I would have told her it was because my true home was the silence inside me and I wanted to live here all the time.
Friend, do you run away from your pain, your shame, your secret rage and private grief?
Do you stuff those unwanted feelings into the dark recesses of your belly, cover them over with things to do, things to get, things to eat?
Do you turn away from disappointment, rejection, failure and regret, pretending they do not visit you in the dark of night?