I
don't lie.
Not to make things easier, not to protect myself, not
ever. I mean, I played along with the Santa Claus experience when my
kids were little, but very little else knowingly false escapes my
lips. I can lie, I just choose not to. I've not yet figured out why I
go to such efforts, but I do know that it's just easier to tell the
truth. I try to do well in life as well as do good. I try not to sin
by silence while also trying to be tactful in my advice. I try to do
all this humbly. Honesty isn't always easy. It has cost me many
friends.
Often when I get
to know someone, or rather they get to know me, there comes a period
where my acquaintance ends up feeling judged. But I'm not judging
them by living my life a certain way, I think they just become
disappointed in themselves. This occasionally can be expressed as
anger, with the acquaintance lashing out hurt, ultimately they feel
that I am arrogant, elitist or an ego-maniac. They argue that I think
I'm better than them, ironically, because I'm being what they
consider better than them. Usually this behaviour is limited to folks
of limited intelligence and/or experience. These are things everyone
can do something about. Not everyone will. However there is one
outcome of getting to know me that seems to be universal amongst
everyone, even very close friends.
They stop telling
me things.
I think because again, they feel judged and don't want to
be. "I drove
home drunk on the weekend. Was lucky to have made it," admits my
silly friend. "I guess so was everyone else on the roads or
sidewalks," I offer. Now my friend feels ashamed rather than
proud. "I cheat on my wife, I get away with it all the time,"
admits my promiscuous acquaintance. "Hey, I'm a man!" he
offers as if this is a natural thing for men to do, as opposed to
women. So I ask, "How would you feel if you found out it was
true that I was fucking your wife?" Now my acquaintance feels
like the person being cheated upon. I'm travelling with a co-worker
who is driving. A woman cuts him off so he follows much too closely
and aggressively, I presume to extract some form of revenge by
scaring her. "Maybe next time she won't cut somebody off,"
he says. "Maybe," I say, "but her bad driving could
have been unintentional and your bad driving is intentional. Besides,
we're one car length further back than we would have been if she
hadn't cut you off. It really makes no difference to anyone but you.
Why get upset and go to all this trouble?" In all of these
instances, I am not judging the individuals, I'm just pointing out
facts in the real world that make them feel judged. They are, in
fact, judging themselves.
They, like many,
are living a lie. I'm only trying to help them discover their
authenticity and perhaps develop some empathy. Getting drunk, making
poor decisions, cheating on your wife and getting angry in traffic
are all things that happen. It would be silly to think we could
eradicate these things, but we damn well better be honest with
ourselves about them.
Such is it that,
given enough time, those who know me discover their authentic selves
whether they wish to or not. This is the price of penultimate
honesty. Their only recourse is to stop expressing their
inauthenticities. Which they do, readily. I believe the most obvious
reason for doing so is to not have to address the fact that aspects
of their personalities need work. And here again, I sound like a
pompous asshole, but I'm beyond caring if you can't see what is
simply true. Expressed as a syllogism it might sound like this: I
know people who make their lives difficult by being inauthentic. I
know people who make their lives easier by being authentic. Easier is
better than more difficult. If the preceding three sentences are
true, do you now feel better about the word "better?" If
there couldn't be a better life, how do we have something to strive
for? Also, if there is a better life, then it must also be true that
there are people living a better life. If authenticity leads to that
better life and I am my most authentic self, then I must be living a
better life. Don't think I'm better than you, I don't. Think I'm
living better than you because I'm living more authentically. I'm not
an asshole, I just always tell the truth. It just so happens that
you're full of shit and I've got a shovel. I'm here to help, I've
rolled up my sleeves. Don't hate me for it.
The
Authentic Self, which nerds have been talking about since philosophy
was invented, is achievable to varying degrees. Nerds, by the way, in
my estimation are folks who have an appreciation for intelligence and
understanding. Nerds are one social group that I feel have the
healthiest approach to living, simply because of their authenticity.
I might even say there is a moral superiority to nerd culture that is
attached to intellectualism and such things are healthy. Spokesnerds
John and Hank Green attribute this to thinking complexly and they are
right, empathy requires complex thoughts, but I'm digressing to the
point of requiring a new essay. (What else is new?) The point is,
authenticity has been a concern for thousands of years, there is no
easy path to it, but every path to it comes to a vast ocean of
personal responsibility. We must do the work necessary to be
authentic and there's a reason it's called work. It's so much easier
to be inauthentic.
Whenever I tell
people that I don't lie, I'm sure they think, although they rarely
express it, "Well, I don't lie either." But that's a lie.
You lie all the time, ten times before lunch on a quiet day. If you
truly never lied in the same way that I never lie, you would know how
very difficult it is.
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