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.

Αναθεώρηση Part 6: Identity . . .

Here’s who I was in 2011:

1. A Knight

Someone I met recently told me I am a knight. On top of my horse, sword and shield, shining armour, crossing the world on a mission. According to this person apparently even my motorcycles are a symbol of my “knight-like” tendencies. 

2. A Nomad

100 plus flights per year, approx. 20-25 countries, more than 50% of my nights in a bed that is not mine, no fixed abodes to speak of, "homes" of a kind in several places and also in none, a wardrobe for all seasons, a suitcase in every corner, empty hangers in the closet . . . yes - I was a nomad.

3. A Leader

I lead people. Some 350 – 400 in my business life. It is my duty and my destiny to lead people. I follow other leaders. It can be very lonely at the front. No-one prepares you for this role. 

4. A Friend

I was a friend to many, as many were friends to me. I went the extra mile for them. Because I wanted to, not because I was obliged. That is friendship.

5. An Idealist

I was an idealist in that I don’t believe that anything exists outside of my mind’s ability to conceive it. I was also an idealist in the sense of holding ideals above other matters. And finally I was an idealist in terms of temperament: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idealist_temperament (NB. I am the “Champion” or ENFP)

6. A Journeyman

Last year I explored and discovered much that was unknown to me and thus brought my future into the present (and quickly into the past). I journeyed through lands, people and most of all through my mind in 2011.

7. A Catalyst

Apparently I helped a few people out in 2011, got their backs, listened to their pain, pushed them to be better, and so on. I am not a savior – people save their own selves – but I was sometimes a helper or a catalyst. I'm glad for that.

8. An Observer

I wrote and I wrote in 2011. On my blog here, and in books, notepads, computers and so on. I wrote essays, poems, memos, sketches, portraits and philosophized endlessly about what I saw in the world and in my self. Writing things down helped me find inspiration, clarity and energy. I was an observer.

9. A Student

I learned people and from people. I learned new ideas, new methods, new perspectives – I watched, I observed, I thought, but I also studied. Formally and informally. I was a student.

10. A Creator

I wrote and recorded a bunch of music last year. I started playing the piano more often – even after my amputation – and worked harder on songwriting and composition focusing on writing more complex and interesting music. I wrote poetry and prose compositions again, penned sketches and scherzos of people and life and I made new things happen. I was a creator.

11. A Destroyer

I destroyed many things and damaged more. Strangled and sabotaged, drowned and overwhelmed, starved and neglected, rejected and terrified, abandoned and abused. Some of the things I destroyed will be reborn. Some of those I damaged will repair. Others will not. I was a destroyer.

Odyssey - the journey to Greece (2011) - Part 10 – Connections . . .

I’ve been thinking about this topic for about three or four days now. There are a number of reasons / events  - and one very specific - that have caused it to come front of mind, but mainly it is because in my current state of “vacation”.

Let me first clarify what I mean by “connection” – or rather what I don’t mean. I don’t mean “can you use your connections to get me tickets”. What I do mean, is those tangible and intangible things which connect us to people.

As I rode through the hills and valleys from Nafpaktos down to Kalamata to visit friends I kept reflecting on what are the things that connect us to people, how do they differ, and what are the factors that change or affect them.

My first thought was that there are basically two kinds of connection we form with people. I’m going to call them “institutional” and “random”.

Institutional connections with people arise primarily from institutions - funny that! – and include family, school, university, work, social circle etc.

These institutions have rules, codes, contexts and histories. We build our connection with people from these institutions based primarily on the platforms provided. Our first friends our typically the children of our parent’s friends. Then we move on to making connections with other children at nursery school and throughout our childhood through schools and our local community activities (e.g. scouts, swimming club, etc.). Sometimes these friends overlap across institutions – i.e. you go to school with kids who you know from being your parent’s friends children.

A similar thing happens as one goes to high school and university – but of course as our number of institutions expands, so does our circle of connections and the contexts from which they have grown.

Then we start work and meet new people through work and build more institutional circles, some with overlaps and some not.

We’ve all been in the situation where two separate circles of friends meet – say work friends and university friends – and the occasional awkwardness that this can sometimes produce as they know you – or connect to you - from very different perspectives.

Our best connections have usually evolved over years and transcend this kind of contextual demarcation  - mainly because the friendship is truly deep and thus does not rely on the props of a shared experience or the “in-joke” or specific contexts of institutional connections.

But the other kind of connection is the one that has really interested me in the last few days. The “Random” connection. The connection that has no real context or if it does, it is based on a very tiny context in comparison to the “institutional” connection.

And it is the nature of the “random” connection that is interesting. Precisely what is it that connects us to people we don’t know and have no context for knowing?

Is it vibe? An intangible aesthetic? An idea? A notion? A hope? An unconscious need?

I have truly struggled to define this as I have thought about it. The closest I have come so far is a mix of values and interests which at some point converge to form a transmission of some kind – like a radio signal – which can be picked up very quickly by people with an equal or receptive capacity for those same values and interests. It is a momentary thing – instant.

We have all shared a knowing look with a stranger in a bar or at a bus station. Where we both know that we are thinking the same thing. The difference is with the random connection is that instead of then forgetting the person at the bar or in the bus station, we instead find ourselves drawn to them and we connect somehow.

Some of the most interesting, stimulating and important people that I have “connected” with in the last ten years have been totally random connections. There has been no rhyme or reason as to why I should have ever met them other than a freak moment of chance that brought us in contact, allowed a single transmission of a V&I signal and resulted in us becoming connected.

There is another dimension that complicates (or enriches depending on your perspective)  - gender. When we talk about connections to people of the opposite sex, there is  - at least in my experience – the third dimension of attraction. Attraction beyond the “Values” and “Interests”. That impossible to describe aspect of encountering someone of different gender and understanding immediately an attraction or not, without being able to meaningfully define it. So Values & Interests & Attraction. VIA.

I find random connections incredibly vital as each that I can recall has massively expanded my life compared to the incremental enrichment I get from connecting with people from more institutional contexts.  Of course, random connections can become institutionalized – they become part of a circle somehow, even if the circle is just one person, or they become colleagues, girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, husbands or a man you see at the bar sometimes.

A good example is my friend Jon - the drummer in my last band. Jon was a guy I met randomly at a party when we played together in an improvised jam session – me on guitar and vocals, him on the drums. We had fun playing music together and so exchanged numbers and then had no contact for four years.

One random day – four years later - I rang him up to see if he was still in the country. He was. I asked if he fancied putting a blues band together. He did. We put the band together and became great friends. The band became an institution of course, and our connection ultimately transferred to that context – but before it became institutionalized it was a great new connection that gave me a lot of pleasure and satisfaction.

Random connections – because they do not rely on props or contexts – are typically very honest and vital in my experience. They are exciting – because of their novelty and because of their unpredictability – but also because of their freedom.

Of course this cannot and does not last . . . once a random connection begins to institutionalize it begins to adopt rules and codes – self determined or established - and then it becomes more predictable. A friendship demands certain attentions, behaviours and actions, a romantic relationship others and so on. But in the beginning, the unknown is tremendously exciting – particularly as one considers possibilities and their probabilities . . .

To qualify as a random connection, as opposed to just a new institutional connection, I think there must be as little in common as possible between the two people other than the thing that initially connects them. That could be an event (an earthquake or other kind of disaster) or a shared interest (a concert of a favourite musician, a book signing etc.) or even more random acts such as bumping into someone in a museum or at a bus stop and starting a conversation.

My favourite “random” people in my life are from different countries, different cultures, different mother tongues, different backgrounds, different religions, different ages etc - and it’s perhaps this diversity which I find both interesting and enriching – particularly as somewhere in all of that we have something in common which we discovered quickly and which connected us.

I also think that there are two kinds of approach that people have to this phenomenon (if indeed it is recognized or understood by anyone other than me!) . . .

Those who find great comfort in their institutions and therefore in their institutional connections, and those who accept their institutions for what they are – and the connections within them – but for whom the random connections are essential.

In other words there are people who shy away from or avoid random connections and those who seek them out.

In terms of what draws people to the “random team” I think it’s partly a function of curiosity (certainly in my case) and partly a function of looking for other energy outside of the normal framework of reference.

Those who prefer the safety and structure of institutionalized connections do not like the anxiety or uncertainty of a random connection, nor the “risk” implied in it. For there is risk when you put yourself out there with a stranger of any kind – a quid pro quo of course in terms of exposure and vulnerability, but nevertheless, you have to be prepared to take the risk…and be curious.

While my oldest and best friend is someone who I went to school with and have been close to ever since, many of my other great friendships / associations / relationships, began as “random” connections – and certainly the people who are most important to me and influential in my life today began as “randoms” – in other words they had no reason to cross my path or me theirs at all, but their VI or VIA was so strong, we connected and usually right away.

In terms of the kinds of connections one forms with random people, the connection can be narrow or broad. With institutional connections there is usually a much more specific band defined usually by the context in which the connection was formed. For example, a work colleague is the kind of connection which ranges from acquaintance to friend while a random connection could just be someone who really digs your favourite hobby and you connect on that – or they could end up being your husband or wife.

Indeed, my ex-wife (or the “First Wife” as I optimistically like to refer to her . . .) was a “random” – we had almost no context at all. Ironically we created two institutions – marriage and then divorce - and thus we have the context that we created together and then later abandoned together. Now we remain good institutional friends.

Another feature of random connections in my experience is the rapidity – and indeed intensity - with which the connection forms – usually a matter of days, but sometimes even hours or minutes – while institutional connections, again because of their context, tend to develop over a longer period.

This may explain the concept of “love at first sight” to some degree – although not all random connections are built on love as a premise, and usually only those that involve the A factor in the VI equation.

And of course, “love at first sight” goes one of two ways. It stays random briefly before it dies or eventually it becomes institutionalized!

By definition, random connections cannot be chosen or sought. They happen. This is – for me at least – part of the excitement of them. Moreover, I don’t think people can choose to be a person who is attracted to the random connection or the institutional connection. I think we all experience both, but some of us prefer and get more energy from random connections and some prefer and get more energy from the comfort of institutional connections.

Again, it is about appetite for risk, preparedness for vulnerability, and ability to accept change, novelty and the unknown. . .

Life is bigger than Facebook and fellow alumni. It is richer and more exciting than that. But to get the most out of life – and to connect to other people’s lives – you have got to take risks. You’ve got to be open and unafraid –certainly if the connection is to be deep and valuable.

So - to Pete, Amanda, Dick, Maggie F, Maggie G (who’d have thought that two randoms would have the same name!), Greg, Jon, Osio, Anna, and others - and yes, you, the person reading this wondering about our connection - thank you for being random, for transmitting / receiving when you did (and the way you did) and ultimately for connecting.

Whether it was brief, long or is still unfolding, I enjoy / enjoyed it and am grateful.

And to all my “institutional” friends  - the ones I met at school, at work or at play, or even randomly once upon a time – you are appreciated equally deeply and fondly of course.

I wonder who I will meet tomorrow?