Me and Eleanor Rigby

I'm not exactly what I would call a Beatles "fan," but I do enjoy their music. And I find some of their lyrics to be particularly interesting or meaningful. One of my favorite Beatles tunes is "Eleanor Rigby." I find it to be quite sad, but also quite relatable. And these days, I can identify even more with the "lonely people," and with Eleanor in particular. 

A statue of Eleanor Rigby in Liverpool

I've always been struck by the lines, "Wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door. Who is it for?" What did it mean? I didn't understand. 

But now I do. I get you now, Eleanor. I, too, now have a face that I keep in a jar by the door. Because sometimes my real face is not appropriate for public. Like last Sunday, in church. I teach the kids' Sunday school class, which meets during the worship service, and I needed a little extra time to set up my classroom that morning, so I got to the sanctuary late and decided to stand at the back until it was time to lead the kids out. 

And everything was fine, until we sang the opening hymn. Which happened to be one of my late husband's favorites. And the last time I had heard it was at his funeral. I actually made it through the first two verses before I fell apart. With tears running down my face, I tried to keep singing, but only a croak came out, so I stopped. I dug into my pocket for a tissue, trying to put my face back together before the "passing of the peace" that always followed the hymn, when everyone turns and greets each other, and before it was time to lead the kids out of the service. I had to pull it together, and quickly. 

So I put on the face that I keep in a jar by the door. The face that covers my true feelings. The face that is socially acceptable. The face that was able to cheerfully pass the peace to those around me, and to greet the children in my class, even when inside, I was falling apart. 

It's a useful thing, that face in the jar. I use it with my own kids on a regular basis. There are times when I am dealing with my kids and I feel overwhelmed, so I put on the face. There are times when I'm in public and I have a "moment," but I don't want to freak people out, so I put on the face. There are even times when I frighten myself with the depths of emotion that suddenly wash over me, so I put on the face. 

It feels safer that way. It feels necessary, sometimes. It spares other people discomfort, or unease. The face is a way to hide my true feelings when it's not the time and place to show them. Sometimes I even use it when I know that those around me will understand, and offer sympathy, but I just can't bear receiving sympathy at the moment. 

But it has its opposite, as well. As much as there are times when I hide my feelings, I also find times to let them out. Sometimes the emotion just hits me and, if I'm alone or in a safe place, I can let it out. And there are also times when I find myself in a safe place and choose to let those feelings out. 

I think it's important to let them out. Bottling them up somehow makes them multiply, like Tupperware lids in a little-used cabinet or tangled wire hangers in the guest room closet. They're not so bad when you originally tuck them away, but if you leave them alone for a while, they grow until they're a huge mess when you finally open that door. They'll come crashing into you and knock you for a loop. 

One of my favorite words is "catharsis," and giving vent to those overwhelming angry/sad/fearful/hopeless feelings at an opportune moment provides catharsis. It's like switching on an emotional garbage disposal: It makes a lot of noise and it stinks and sometimes it's a little messy, but it does get rid of the nasty stuff you don't need. More nasty stuff might build up eventually, but as long as you keep dealing with it on a regular basis, it doesn't build up to the point where you need to call in a professional. But if you DO need to call a professional, that's okay, too. 

We all do what we have to do to make it through life. Sometimes, that means keeping a jar by the door.