It was about 4 years ago I thought we needed a modern day Wailing Wall, like the one in Jerusalem--a place where any and all could unload some burdens anonymously. To get it out, stop bottling up our weighty fetters.
The vision was that once internet traffic arrived, just like the Wailing Wall in old Jerusalem, they would find many had come before them and they had the same burdens. Hopefully there would be something cathartic about learning that our no-one-will-understand-what-I'm-going-through burdens were the same burdens others were bearing. It never happened as a website, but I think it makes a better mobile app today.
The general idea of a wailing wall is nothing new, of course. People have always needed a place to voice their burdens with some semblance of privacy. It's why the institution of the best friend, the psychologist's couch, and church confessional have endured through the years. People aren't looking for a magical fix, only a place to say something out loud.
I'm not sure what the magic is about saying something out loud, but we don't need a psychological study to prove it. We need only look at the countless times people huff that powerful sigh, "there, I said it."
Life can be really sticky and sad. People get cancer, tell lies, get depressed, commit suicide, and every other deflating disaster in life. Some of us stack these things up in our life only to find we've built a terribly sad wall isolating us from our fellow man and woman.
But if we allow it, we can find something unusual in these isolating parts of life. We can find in a rush of supernatural relief we're not alone at the wall, nor does it isolate us. We can find that as we stand before it, we stand many others, that we're not alone. We stand with others, yelling at it, not submitting to it, and instead making it a gathering place where we come together.