Truth/Lies...Light/Darkness

Over at upsi's blog, today, she posted an excerpt by Gordon Shippey. I admit that I didn’t care for his approach on lying. Rather than argue, I’m giving him his points and offering my perspective. I grew up with lies, about everything, even when no lie was necessary. Lies painted the picture-perfect personas. (I couldn’t resist.) I was in my early 40s before I began to realize how deep and vast the lies were.

Choosing the truth was not an easy decision or one that was taken lightly, largely because I had to figure out what the truth was, which frequently required deep mining skills though years of layers. I’ve worked hard, enjoying a measure of success. Truth is becoming my center.

With that in mind, my high school reunion is approaching. I thought about going, but decided against it. These people, for the most part, only know all the lies. I truly don’t think I’m up for a game of overcoming misconceptions, on a lifelong scale.

I haven’t mentioned one of the truths I’ve generally kept buried: I almost married my high school boyfriend. Do I really want to revisit this ugly mess? In the interest of what I’m learning about the truth, I’m putting it here, where those who visit don’t know him. Someone is going to ask me about him. They always do. Without fail. I haven’t seen him in more than fifteen years, maybe longer, and someone asked me about him the other day. I probably shouldn’t have snapped that I don’t keep in touch with him and have no desire to ever see him again. He asked me to set a date; I did; he developed cold feet; and finally I discovered some self-respect. Saying that to anyone who knew us will only cause problems. Among other things, he allowed others to believe it was my fault he’d left his “dream” future. This man supposedly loved me so much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, but to save himself from being chewed out by his parents he allowed them to believe I was a controlling witch. What is admirable? Honorable? Or desirable about that? He wasn’t a four-year-old trying to blame his sister for stealing the cookies. He was a grown man who was blaming the “love of his life” for his decision, a decision I told him, in no uncertain terms, was to be made without putting me in the middle. Whatever he decided was his choice, and I would support him. The sad truth is that I’m not sure with whom I’m most angry: Him for lying about it or me for letting him.

As I reflected on the very real possibility that this could come out, I was thinking about how lies always come back and bite you. And then I thought: No, lies are dark. They don’t like to be revealed. They will do anything to remain covered, hidden. What a shock to realize that it’s the truth that always comes back to bite you. It’s the truth that refuses to stay hidden. Truth is light, where lies huddle in the darkness. It is light that pushes back the darkness. In a dark room, if there is even a single candle, the light from that candle banishes the dark.

Struggling to embrace the concept of truth, and releasing the lies, it's a whole new perspective to realize that lies are weak, pitiful things that require re-enforcement to survive. And yet, even with backup, lies eventually fall apart and fail. Whereas no matter how many lies you pile on top of the truth, the truth remains, unchanging.