A Short Piece About Truth

Last night I had a dream which, after I woke up and tried to decode it, I concluded was about "truth".

I love truth. It is perhaps an abstract concept for most of us for most of the time although we think about it and refer to it in some way almost daily.

The truth nourishes us (understanding & clarity) and sometimes frightens us (enlightenment sometimes sheds light on unpleasant, hurtful things as well as the pleasant and good) - but it never leaves us alone. We cannot remain unaffected by truth.

We spend much of our lives trying to reveal and conceal the truth in equal measure. These are not only futile exercises, they create stress and anguish.

We tend to try and tell people about positive truths, while we tend try and conceal negative truths

In our efforts to reveal or tell our truth we often exaggerate or lose perspective - and it is futile as the truth reveals itself in any case, at least to those who can see. Those who cannot will never see the truth of a matter no matter what our efforts are. Truth is the ultimate dimension of reality - and some can see it, some cannot.

Many of us spend a great deal of time trying to project or show our "positive" truth emphatically and with ever growing clarity - telling people we love them, telling people how sorry we are, telling people how excited we are, how interested etc. Trying to make them believe something which is - or should be - evident to all those who are receptive to truth. While those who are not will never see it anyway.

We do it with our colleagues at work when we tell them how impressed we are with them - to give them confidence and make them feel motivated and positive - when actually it is often OUR confidence in THEM that needs a boost or some reassurance. . .

We do it with friends when we tell them how happy we are for them when something good happens in their lives believing that we are showing our support, solidarity and affirmation - when in reality we are often telling them how we are worried that their new happiness or success somehow makes us insecure that they will somehow be pulled away from us.

We do it with lovers or partners when we profess our love, our commitment and our care for them, believing we are showing them our feelings and making them feel good about themselves and the relationship. In reality we are often telling them how insecure we are, how we are afraid of commitment and how we need their care.

In other words, when we seek to clarify or reveal our truth to others, it is a) often unnecessary as people know already know our truth through our behaviors and b) disingenuous as we are often telling a different truth for ourselves, but disguised as a truth for them.

Conversely we often try to hide the truth. Either out of fear of what it will do to us or fear of what it will do to others. (Most of the time the two fears are the same - i.e. if the truth is revealed it will mean something to others which will then affect us . . . for we are selfish beings at our core, and it all revolves around us until we learn compassion.)

Thus most of the time the greater act of compassion is to tell the truth rather than hiding it from those we care about. When we try to hide the truth from others feels we tell ourselves that it is because we're protecting them and so we feel righteous and good about it. But actually we are not - we are tormenting them, for those we are connected to and close to intuitively feel the truth anyway. Hiding it from them hurts them and denies them the basic mutual respect they could expect from us based on our connection or relationship.

Think of the times you have fail or choose not to tell a colleague about their poor performance or lack of skills at work because you don't want to hurt their feelings - and yet you know instinctively that your behaviors and stance betray your real opinion.

Think of the times when you fail or choose not to tell a friend that they are behaving stupidly, naively or behaving like a spoiled child - because you are fearful of hurting their feelings or worried that they will reject your rebuke and it will damage your friendship - and yet you know they can feel your disdain or annoyance because your friendship allows them intuition.

Think of the times you hide things from your partner, from your ex or a new girlfriend or boyfriend - that you're feeling frustrated, that you're with someone else now, that you're uncertain or insecure - all because you're trying to protect them or avoid from knowing something difficult or uncomfortable - but really it's about your comfort not theirs. They know, because they intuit, because they know you. So not telling them is not respecting them, causing them anxiety and hurt in the process.

When you have a truth you are keen to share - show it, don't tell it.

When you have a truth you are keen to hide - tell it, don't show it.

If your truth is positive you don't need to tell it - just trust the other person to see what you are showing. And remember that if they don't see it then it wouldn't make any difference to them anyway if you tell your truth or not.

And if you are hiding something from someone, chances are they will already know, feel or suspect it - so tell them the truth - as you are already showing it to them. Choose your words, your method and your time carefully to show your genuine respect and sensitivity - but don't delay.

In both cases truth requires bravery on your part for the benefit of the other person - when your truth is positive, you must be brave and trust that your truth is understood. When negative for the other person, you must be brave and face the lesser of two evils and show them your respect and care by communicating what is already known or half known. Put the other person out of their misery - and trust that you will not lose them because of it.

Don't be afraid of the truth, be compassionate about it.

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 7 – Life & Death

There was a great Texan country folk singer by the name of Townes Van Zandt who died in 1997. Townes Van Zandt wrote beautiful songs / poems and performed them with a melancholy that is almost unsurpassed. Even his love songs like “If I Needed You” sound sad.

He was a long term heroin addict and chronic alcoholic who once offered to sell all the publishing rights of his songs for $20 to get some smack, and also once shot up in front of his 8 year old son. He died at the age of 52.

One of his blacker songs – and one of my favourites – is “Waiting Around To Die”:

Waiting Around To Die – Townes Van Zandt

Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me
Sometimes I can't even see the reason why
I guess I keep on gamblin', lots of booze and lots of ramblin'
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

One-time friends I had a ma, I even had a pa
He beat her with a belt once cause she cried
She told him to take care of me, she headed down to Tennessee
It's easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

I came of age and found a girl in a Tuscaloosa bar
She cleaned me out and hit it on the sly
I tried to kill the pain, I bought some wine and hopped a train
Seemed easier than just a-waitin' 'round to die

A friend said he knew where some easy money was
We robbed a man and brother did we fly
The posse caught up with me, drug me back to Muskogee
It's two long years, just a-waitin' 'round to die

Now I'm out of prison, I got me a friend at last
He don't steal or cheat or drink or lie
His name's codeine, he's the nicest thing I've seen
Together we're gonna wait around and die

The original tune from the album it came from is here (with some great photos of Townes): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwR1n0p1V7U

Another great recording is this duet with Townes and Calvin Russell: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNM4OwJX1H0

From the brief biography and the song above, it is pretty clear that while Townes had talent, friends, family, money, some success (although while alive he was always something of a “cult” musician – and very much a musician’s musician), and many other opportunities besides, for him life was too much of a challenge. Life for him was about waiting around to die – which he did. Far too young.

For those of us with far less musical and poetic talent, life still has its challenges and difficulties to overcome. We can either accept those challenges and beat them – having the courage to choose life or we can be undone by them, dragged down and just wait around to die.

In the last few weeks I have had close friends and family be diagnosed with cancer, undergo serious surgery, have loved ones involved in serious car accidents and then of course there are many who struggle with everyday life – with depression, with unemployment, with unhappy marriages, with stressful jobs and so on. Life can be a bitch – and some of it is of our own making, which makes it all the more painful, ironic and frustrating.

Pessimists rejoice of course in this aspect of the human condition. The American journalist George F. Will who currently writes for the Washington Post wrote in his book “The Leveling Wind”: “The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”

I, however, am delighted to be proven wrong and unpleasantly disappointed – for I am an optimist. A fully paid-up member of the club and an advocate to boot.

Why do I choose optimism? Because it provides me with the courage to live my life as fully as I can. Without optimism, I am sorely afraid that I would end up waiting around to die – and that would be a waste of my time, the time of others and frankly a waste of a good opportunity.

Being a greedy person generally, I want to get the most I can from life – especially as it is finite and quite possible shorter than one might imagine or hope. Although my natural optimism wars with my other tendencies of idealism and pragmatism – I tend to settle on a biblical target of three score years and ten – with any upside representing a profit margin I am willing to declare to the Good Lord on the day of reckoning. And if I do live longer than that – just another thirty years before break-even– then I will certainly owe some taxes on my extra profited years.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines optimism as having "hopefulness and confidence about the future or successful outcome of something; a tendency to take a favourable or hopeful view."

I tend to take that view about my life. I think that most things will turn out well or very well – but I accept that some won’t. I believe that on balance, if I stay positive, I will enjoy life more than if I let it get me down. And when I am down or have the devil in me (see: http://osapp.blogspot.com/2009/06/devil-inside.html ) it doesn’t last long if I focus on the positive things ahead.

I’ve always subscribed to the philosophy that it is better to regret something you have done, than something you haven’t done. The only time I modify that philosophy is when my actions might directly impact other people negatively – and then I weigh things up a little more carefully.

Don’t worry – I’m not about to get myself an orange dress, a dumb haircut and start chanting Hare Krishna – nor am I shaking my rattle in the church hall singing “Kumbaya”.

I am talking about a faith in life that overrides my fear of life. For all of us have fears – and the most deep rooted ones are about our own existence. Mortality, identity, security, vulnerability, vanity and so on.

I know I’m going to die. I’m not awfully keen about doing it anytime soon – but then it may not be entirely up to me.

I know who I am – more or less – and find as I grow older (and hopefully just a little wiser as opposed to just wider) that I am more and more comfortable with who I am. Good and bad. (Next step is to balance better once confident in the knowledge of both aspects)

I do not fear for my security over much – thankfully I live in places where generally I don’t need to. I do appreciate that for others this is not so easy.

I do not worry about my vulnerability as I seem to be able to bounce back from most things whether disease, physical injury, psychological or emotional trauma and so on – and I think a good deal of my ability to do is because of my optimism (with just a sprinkling of idealism).

As for vanity – it is closely linked to one’s ego. We all have one – the trick is to try and keep it in check as much as possible, but never to try and deny its existence. I don’t worry about my bald patch, my rather too large belly is a health concern more than a question of vanity and my looks are the ones I was blessed or cursed with and I don’t believe in plastic surgery other than for medical reasons – so that is that.

Of course – as I inferred in the part about security – I have life pretty damn good. I enjoy moderately good health – despite my very insistent efforts to compromise it – with some help from my employers and my clients. I am comparatively wealthy and enjoy a high standard of living. I live in peaceful, crime free environment. I come from a stable, conventional family. I am well educated and I work in a professional and broadly safe environment. So what’s not to be optimistic about?

If I was a starving child exposed to chronic diseases in Sub Saharan Africa? If I was a Palestinian living in Gaza or one of the refugee camps? If I had been born blind, deaf, paralysed, or with a fatal disease? If I had cancer? Would I still be as glib about optimism providing the courage to live life?

I would like to think that I would. I believe that no matter what disaster befalls us, whether at birth, by circumstance or by design – optimism is the difference between defeat and victory in terms of dealing with that challenge.

Faith – whether in God or good fortune – surely is a means to find resources from within oneself (or from others) and either overcome the problem one faces or simply learn to live with it ?

When my finger-tip was amputated recently, I was pragmatic and optimistic. My friends and loved ones were alternately shocked, sympathetic and even empathetic – many sad for me about my loss. I failed to understand this. Sure – it was painful, annoying and a bummer – but it was just a finger-tip. It could have been much worse. To me it was just one of those things. I gave thanks I hadn’t lost an eye or my hearing. I was pleased it was just the tip and not the whole finger – but generally it was just “one of those things”. Shit happens.

A few weeks afterwards I got very depressed about it. Not because my hands were no longer beautiful (that was compensated by the automatic 10% discount on manicures . . .) – but because it was going to very seriously affect one of my great loves in life. Playing the guitar. You kind of need all your finger tips to play guitar.

I’d looked up Tony Iommi and Django Reinhardt – two great guitarists of rather different genres. One was the founding father of heavy metal and the other a gypsy jazz legend. Both had serious finger injuries – Iommi losing two finger tips in an industrial accident and Django being burned in a fire which badly damaged his third and fourth fingers. I was buoyed by their stories and decided this wouldn’t be a problem. Until I tried to play.

At first my finger was very swollen and still very painful so playing was impossible anyway – but after the swelling went down I realized that I really couldn’t play half the songs anymore – including ones I had written myself. I was really devastated. Furious with myself that one passion (motorcycling) had cost me another (guitar playing). Sad that I would lose the comfort and joy that playing music brings me.

I mooched and moaned for weeks, feeling ever more grey and down about the whole thing. Wishing I could undo things. Until after a while I stopped and thought of two things. One is to do with relativism as a coping mechanism – the other is the power of lateral and optimistic thought.

Relativism helped me to contextualize my problem – I didn’t lose my arm. Or even my hand. OR even a whole finger. I lost a tip. If it had been worse then guitar would have certainly been off the menu forever - along with my new found interest of teaching myself piano. BUT, it wasn’t worse – therefore I was lucky and not unlucky. I had hope.

The lateral optimistic thinking went like this. I can’t play guitar like I used to. Can’t play the chords or scales that I used to. So I will learn to play guitar differently, will learn new chords and use different tunings to make my own sound. And that will be even better than before because it will expand my musical vocabulary. And so that is what I did.

Since my finger amputation, I have written and recorded three new songs, played a live gig in LA and learned new techniques using slide guitar, open tuning and using my little finger instead of the damaged third. I have to have another amputation on the third finger to take it down to the knuckle and it doesn’t bother me – because I have found some optimism in this small misfortune.

Now I didn’t watch my sister get blown to pieces on a land mine, or watch my family be blown up in our home, or see my whole village die of starvation or disease – so again one needs to frame the discussion within the context to which it might relate.

But even the orphaned child, the disease ridden villager, the widowed soldier’s wife have the choice of hope, and the relativism of “it could have been worse” – no matter how awful the trauma was. There is always the choice of life – and I would always advocate making that choice – and using optimism as the courage to do so. There is always the possibility of things getting better – and if we believe that, we can increase those chances to probability from possibility.

Two members of my family have committed suicide, another has tried. I wish the two had chosen life and had the courage to do so in the face of their pain, tragedy and loss. And I am glad the third ultimately did – as it would have been a wasted opportunity to live, to enjoy, to succeed, to laugh, to cry and to fail.

If we can fail, then by definition we can succeed. If we can die, then by definition we can live.

Just takes a little courage sometimes and seeing life from someplace else, if it doesn’t make sense from where you’re sitting.

This piece is “αφιερωμένο” to E.K. – thanks for the idea.