Skip to main content

I cannot tell a lie.

It's true. I cannot tell a lie.

If you're looking to plan a surprise party, I'm not your gal, believe me. If you want my opinion about something, just ask. If you want to know who finished the Mint Chip, it was me.

I cannot tell a lie. Well, I actually can, and that gets me into a lot of trouble. You see, it's been challenging for me in my life to own up to my misgivings, to take responsibility for my actions. I'm about 3 1/2 when it comes to this stuff. I'm realizing just how much I fear the consequences. Really, what could happen, someone might get mad? I'd get fired? I could get sent to my room?

So I lie to myself, I make up stories about the story. Change it around a bit (who will know anyhow?). I pretend things are different. Twist and turn the idea of it all. Anything so I won't get into trouble, see others get mad, be the cause and reason for the world's demise (yes, it’s all MY fault).

The truth as I know it is that when I'm not owning my responsibility for any given situation, I'm not being honest with myself, and with others. I’m denying the honest truth of me and it's not the position of service I choose to be in. My denial process sort of elongates and perpetuates the untruths, & keeps all the good, juicy stuff at bay. I guess my process is a tight little ball of past conditionings and, truth is, it's just waiting to be unraveled (and knit into a deliciously warm angora parka).

If you only knew the to-the-core guilt I felt when I tried a cigarette for the first time. I felt it was wrong but I wanted to be cool and I wanted to know what the others knew. Oh, did I torture myself for trying that cigarette. Me and Shakespeare could've written some amazing stuff together.

But if I had known what I know now, I could have allowed myself that very moment of being the kid who was experimenting, who was experiencing life. 30 something years later I'm still learning to be at ease with my decisions, trusting that I'm standing on a foundation made up only of honesty and truth. That Marlboro-y outward experience wasn’t the truth of me - The truth of me is in my cells, and no experience can take that away. Say it with me: No outward experience can take away the beauty and truth of who I am. Good.

Perhaps these types of accepting realizations are the very needed steps in our lives which allow us to move into a deepening acceptance of our inner truth and light. When we don't stand in our own truth, acknowledge all the good that we are, and know that it's okay to make our own decisions (and trusting that all the results, or consequences are purposeful), then we're surely caught up in a lie.

As I start waking up to this, I am becoming more aware of the spiritual undertoe that has been pulling me and throwing me to and fro all these years. I think it’s been kicking me (in a sweet, ballet kind of way) 'round and 'round until I woke up, to this point, right here, right now. Even as I write this, I’m even just slightly more awakened than I was a minute ago. Now that’s progress, good honest progress.

So I think: How will honesty change me? Could honesty emprision me? Will I really get into trouble if I tell the truth? Will people still like me? Will I still like me?

I guess I have to start right where I am, in this space, my own personal minute, reminding myself that I am the honest truth. I want to drive on a road paved with wisdom stones. I'm perfect as me and the Truth in my heart is love, peace, compassion, creativity, joy and success. Through this practice, I can begin to operate from this great place. I will know when I'm not being honest, or authentic, or truthful. I will know.

Imagine our world if we all operated from honesty. There would be no holding back. There would be no judgments. The air would be so clean with love and forgiveness. Truth is, we really do all go through the same life stuff, don't we? Just different details. Just details. Let's begin to own up to everything (yes, just admit you ate the last scoop).

This whole process is the kind of service my heart longs for. It knows the truth of it all and I'm learning to ease those roadblocks away because the Light longs to shine and those blocks create way too much shade for me. Plus, I always start and stop around them and it’s very unnerving.

So Come on people! Will you join me in the Honesty March? Together we’ll stride through the un-roadblocked streets of life, being the Truth, honest through and through. Making a statement, a promise together that we'll live from our very Truth-core, and trust the perfection in it all. Really, how long do you want to stay in your same old story? (Ok, that was really for me. I cannot tell a lie).

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

staying connected.

I made a big change.  I followed a call.  I was drawn to Colorado, and to the sun, and to things not quite in my view yet.  Two months ago I moved about 30 miles from Denver, to a cabin, in the mountains. It's remote here, but I still need to connect with the internet powers, and to share my music during these extended pandemic times, and to ease into mountain living with a sprinkling of modernity. I found a broadband company who can service my area and last week they installed all the moving internet parts. Yay! No. slow ... slow ... "can't connect"...over and over, "can't connect"...  or WON'T, internet, be honest, is it can't or won't??  (I *may* have accidentally been talking to the modem, and the laptop, the broadband company.) I persisted, and as I prepared for this morning's Zoom service, I plugged my ethernet cable right into the modem and I was connected.  Wahooooo ! A half hour later, it couldn't connect again, despite being...

everything counts.

What a week it has been. My MacBook crashed and needed a new battery. I lost my phone. I found out I have arthritis in my hips. There is a horrid smell coming out of my apartment building A/C so I receive a toxic welcome each time I walk into the building and hallway to my home. Lots of driving, too, which doesn't help the hip sitch, finishing off the week with a journey down to Kohl's to make a return only to learn their computer systems were down.  A long list, counting one by one all the things that went wrong.  Thank You for joining me on this episode of "Poor Me." Oh! And then the money counting; realizing I had spent more than I made and coming face to face with how what I bring to the world is valuable, yet somehow not valuable enough to support a regular 'ol life. What I do counts. Who I am counts.  With each annoyance, frustration, sadness, negative storm cloud, I also had moments when I looked at the beauty around me, slowed down, took a gratitude invent...

It's not always black and white.

When I arrived in Oregon eight years ago, it was an adjustment. We are from New York. End of post. Kidding. I noticed, and wasn't afraid to ask: "Where are all the black people?". Now asking a question like this came from an honest and innocent place inside me. And it also might be offensive to some. I understand the implications yet I'm still sharing this story because what followed was pretty impactful for me. New York is a port where peoples from all nations arrived to make a better life. They brought with them sadness for families left behind, excitement for new beginnings, and culture, food and language. Like folks who traveled to this West side of the country to explore new frontiers, there are new beginnings. Different experiences of it, but still important to note a similar story of leaving the nest for something better. New York is very different than Oregon because of the diversity of the influx of different cultures who arrived, and as a res...