Honesty

The topic of honesty has been on my mind all week. Being honest – speaking truth – is one of my biggest challenges. These are some sentences I thought, but did not speak, this past week:

• I would prefer not to work with you because I feel disrespected and that makes me not respect you.
• Your behaviour in this workshop is disruptive; if you can’t commit to being present, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.
• I believe your judgment of that other person is unfounded and unfair.
• I just don’t want to continue our friendship in this way.
• We can’t afford to host a wedding in the same way that my sister did (because we have chosen an infinitely more expensive location than she did!).

I was listening to a podcast interview with Martha Beck, a sociologist, coach, and author of The Way of Integrity, who spoke about her ‘year of honesty’ – speaking nothing but the truth for an entire year. She described it as terrifying and exhilarating. Terrifying because, in her honesty, she burned some bridges, and exhilarating because, in her honesty, she finally felt free and 100% congruent in her thoughts, words, and actions.

I have often thought about taking up that experiment – even for a day. I even have a notecard pinned up over my desk that says: “Make a commitment to tell the truth, in all circumstances, no matter what.” But I just can’t do it. So, what makes honesty so hard? One aspect for me is that I don’t want to hurt another person’s feelings with my truth. Much has been written about how humans are social animals for whom exile is a punishment worse than death, and I don’t want to alienate myself or another. But that’s not the whole story. I think honesty is hard, at least for me, because my truth is never clear cut and simple. Part of me wants to take the mature step and have an open conversation with the person who I feel is disrespecting me, and the other part of me wants to set boundaries and refuse to be treated poorly. Part of me wants to tell that disruptive person to leave the workshop, and the other part of me wants to understand why he finds it so difficult to engage. Part of me wants to hold on to a friendship, and the other part of me wants to recognize that we have drifted apart. Part of me wants to plan a fabulous wedding in California, regardless of the cost, and the other part of me knows we should be responsible and stick to our budget.

While honesty is hard to give, it can be a gift to receive when given from a caring place. I will never forget, about 15 years ago when I went to see a therapist, complaining of being bored, she said "Maybe you're boring." As we continued our conversation, she observed "You don't have a lot of compassion for others, do you?" Yes, her comments were meant to (and did) shake me out of my self-centered stance towards life. But they also helped me grow as a person by reflecting back the truth of how I lived my life at the time.

If you’re not prepared (or able) to be fully honest, perhaps an interim step is to make a commitment to not telling a lie – not even a white lie. For example, on a call I have today with this person I find challenging, instead of being ‘fake nice’, I am going to experiment with showing up authentically. Not being rude, but not trying to be warm and nurture a professional relationship that isn’t working. If someone is judgmental of another in a conversation, I’m not going to indulge them. If I don’t want to do something, I’ll try to just say no, without explaining my reasons. Maybe, by not lying, I can take baby steps towards telling the truth in all circumstances, no matter what.

For this week's poem (song, in this case), I’ve decided to return to my favourite musical philosopher, Billy Joel. I love the yearning in his song Honesty . While I imagine he’s written this in a moment of romantic frustration, he speaks for humanity more broadly when he sings “Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard, and mostly what I need from you.” I wonder what the world would be like with a little more honesty.

About Friday Pauses

We can all sense how a lack of presence in our daily life affects the quality of our relationships, our ability to form real connections – and yet we struggle to set aside distractions. In my Friday Pauses, I want to encourage us all to do just that – pause for a moment and feel what it’s like to be present by reading a poem.

If you’re new to Friday Pause, here’s what I suggest:

• Minimize or close other screens.
• Put your phone on silent.
• Close your eyes and take a full breath in…and out. Maybe count to four on the inhale and six on the exhale.
• Read the poem below – out loud, if you can. It will slow you down and help you feel the words more.
• Take another deep breath in…and out.
• Resume your day.?