PUBLIC PRIVATE SECRET

A while ago I read an excerpt from a book on Jackie Kennedy Onasis where she was quoted saying that she had three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life.  I hadn’t thought about it that way before, but don’t we all?

Not that my life in any way compares to that of a world-famous woman such as herself – and I wouldn’t trade places with her for any price – but what she said perfectly fits how I see myself. 

There is the public Jocelyn who you will see out and about in stores, at the post office, at public functions.  I’ve also written a newspaper column for a local audience for years, candidly telling stories of life in our house to the point where people who read them think they are being told the whole story.  Because my writing style is relaxed and open there is an illusion of full disclosure.  Believe me, the line may be blurred at times, but there is always a line I don’t cross.  Public is public, private is private.

Occasionally I do venture into writing about what I think – my private side.  These are the more thoughtful pieces.  I guess it could be said that my public side strives to entertain while my private side wants to make the reader think, and I’m willing to let enough of my inside voice speak to accomplish that goal.  Mostly though, I am the same as everyone else.  We tend to keep our private selves at home and share our idiosyncrasies with only our family and close friends.

Then there’s our secret self that only we know.

Think of it this way:  the public you sings a song out loud for all to hear, the private you has told a few friends that it’s your favourite song, but only the secret you knows why the song holds so much special meaning.  Everyone sees the public you, a few people know the private you, the secret you is invisible.

Or maybe not.

Last week I was in Regina doing some shopping.  Just wandering around a Walmart Supercenter with a list that took me to what seemed like every corner of the store.  Eventually I had crossed off all the items I was looking for and it was time to find the checkout and exit, but this wasn’t my regular Walmart and I was lost.

I was in unfamiliar territory, disoriented, dealing with too many foreign landmarks, and trying to make sense of the various signs along the walls.  I just wanted out of the maze.

If I would have thought about it, I’m sure I would have believed it was the public me standing there with my shopping cart.  Or maybe a combination of the public/private me.  But it seems that the secret me must have shown through.

“You look like you could use some help.”

A lady with kind eyes, a caring smile, and her own shopping cart pulled me back into my day with her suggestion.

Of course, I immediately said I was fine. 

That’s what a person does, right?  No matter whether we are, or not?  Besides, I had finally spotted the checkout sign.

But as she walked away I remembered the warmth she had spoken with, and how she had worded her offer.  Somehow she had seen all of me.

In hindsight I wish I had thanked her and invited her for a cup of coffee.  I have a feeling that her secret self and mine might have a lot in common.