public face

Quite frequently I visit a blog called A Diary of Great Disproportion in which a woman named Rozza chronicles her journey back to some sense of normalcy since her breakdown, as she says. In some ways she's worse off than I am (which, though I know is wrong, I find comforting) but in other ways she's doing better than I am at accepting her problems. A lot of the time I hear myself in some of her postings, another reason I find comfort in reading her blog.

One thing that stuck out about a month ago was her saying she "public faced" someone. It reminded me of a line in Paul McCartney's song Eleanor Rigby: "...wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door, who is it for?" I'm sure everyone has different faces for different people. The healthy, 'normal' ones are able to drop them at will. For others (like me) it's not so easy.

I have different degrees of 'public face' for different people or situations depending on how familiar I am with said person or situation. The face I wear at the pre-service prayer at church is different than the one I wear for my dad or even my therapist. These faces are differing degrees of openness on my part, differing levels of trust. And some of these 'faces' have taken years to be worn down and the trust levels built up enough for casual conversation (Dave) or even just eye contact (John). Sometimes all it takes is the right words (Lotis and Messengers) or the right wording (Doc. Sig.) at the right time to make a huge impact.