Telling the truth is terribly difficult. That’s why we don’t do it. The problem is that if we don’t do it, we’re contributing to the big potholes in our relationships and the world around us. What to do?
Without honesty, fractured families continue, or we gossip and bolt from relationships when we’re not understood. If we tell a little lie, withhold our feelings, have judgements – what happens to these untold secrets? It’s popular to say, “Let it go,” but, where does “it” go? These relationships usually fizzle, fade or sputter, like a bottle of champagne shaken too hard. Much like politics, our solidarity shreds when we don’t have a voice.
If you show up to a job everyday where the silent treatment prevails, or everyone back stabs, people don’t do great work. And, we can’t get superb service. I often wonder what would happen if people told the truth all the time? It could be problematic, scary, hurtful or create conflict. But, if we don’t – it becomes a hole in the sweater of community. A dull energy sucks the air. It’s like yanking an electrical plug off the wall; then there’s no current, no juice in the room.
What if we could see each other’s thoughts, like ticker tape across our foreheads? While the supermarket cashier says, “Have a good day,” you could see what’s really in their head: “I hope you trip over your groceries, asshole.” It’s risky, it could get us fired or divorced. Or maybe, renew relationships and a country.
I gambled it with a friend the other night. Gulping, I said, “I wonder if we could chat about our money exchange. I feel guilty about you paying when we go out.” It opened up an invigorating evening. I learned about my patterns with money. He explored his complicated decisions about “who pays.” We both found the conversation freeing as it unfolded through many layers. The Johari Window is a psychological theory that proposes we all have blind spots and we can’t truly learn about ourselves unless we get feedback about how others perceive us. If someone says you talk too much, or you’re too aloof, it doesn’t mean you have to change, but it might offer insight, a way to improve your connections.
While reporters are being barred from the White House, comedians fired, people hidden away in detention camps – the personal is political. Is our lying any different than deception in government? Most words that remain through history tell deep truths. Julia Ward Howe wrote Battle Hymn of the Republic in 1861, during the American Civil War, in one sitting. After hearing people singing, John Brown’s Body, about a hanged man who fought to free the slaves, she awoke, writing, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on.”
Howe was active in prison reform, the struggle to end slavery and the fight to win equal rights for women. Though the song was complex, mixing religion with the horrors of war, it echoes through history. We remember honest words. We know wrath and weapons continue, and we hope the truth keeps marching on.
Risk saying one small concern or belief this week. You can try a tiny truth when you begin. Don’t lunge at people without giving them preparation. Pick a time when it’s not hectic and you have time to hear each other. Say your intention first, what do you want as an outcome? I started the other night with, “I’d like to clear up our ideas about money when we pay the bill.” Always use “I” statements, never You. See what happens.
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