Tell the truth
I’ve got two questions for you. The first is: white feather, black cat, spilled salt… do you assign meaning when you notice these things? Are they arbitrary phenomena, or omens?
The second question is: what’s that thing you’re hiding? That thing you’ve been unsure whether to keep under lock and key, or to release?
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When not speaking the truth, I feel quiet. When there’s something I expend energy on convincing myself that it doesn’t need to be said, I clam up. I rationalise, I do laps around it, I tread on it, I poke it and peek at it, wondering if I keep checking, will it have changed into something more palatable. Something that can be dismissed.
For me, telling the truth (at the right time, to the right person) is crucial to mental ease and peace. You’re only as sick as your secrets, as they say.
It’s not a virtue thing or a moral thing. Who am I (or anyone, really) to judge whether you spend your days with a squeaky clean conscience or fibbing your little heart out?
It’s as much for you as it is anyone else. If collapsing under the weight of the truth, but to unleash it will invariably cause fallout or hurt, then wisdom is needed in selecting the time, manner and ear for the unleashing.
There is success to be had in the ability to bullshit, but it’s not my skillset. Sometimes I wonder if those who live in a state of delusion, conscious or otherwise, are happier. Sometimes, illusion is prettier. Sometimes, we need to view our reality through a certain prism as a defence mechanism. Sometimes, things just aren’t as nice as we’d like them to be. So we pretend otherwise. We convince ourselves, and those around us, of the reality we construct.
If I tell you now that I think you ought to admit the truth about that thing, the thing you can point to even if it’s a little blurry – even even if only to yourself – would you feel seen? Or would you roll your eyes and close the tab?
When the dust of the day settles. When the lights are off and you’re preparing for sleep.
Who are you then?
This is a reminder that there’s connection to be had in honesty. There’s freedom in it. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as cosmic order. I don’t know if a supernatural force caters to the individual with tailored ‘Easter Eggs’. I do think that whether inherent or otherwise, if you assign meaning to something, it has meaning.
If there’s something on your mind, something that nags you and won’t let you rest, let this be your Easter Egg. Your sign that it might be time to let it out of the cage.
I think you’ll feel better if you do.