Some thought on what it means to be honest

"Love is the only way to grasp another human being in the innermost core of his personality" -Viktor Frankl

Being honest… is not as simple as it sounds. It’s not just being able to say “yes Roommate, I ate your pizza rolls” when she asks angrily. It’s not just telling someone what you think in the moment. It’s not just not lying. It’s feeling. It’s expressing what you feel.  Even when it may hurt you or the other person. Even when you might lose something.

Being truly honest requires an acknowledgement of the fact we have no control. That even with our best efforts, we might still lose what we are desperately trying to keep. It also requires knowing that pain isn’t inherently a bad thing and in fact might be one of the greatest gifts we can give.

I see this – I feel this – a lot in relationships. Especially romantic ones. I mean we have all these “rules” right? Like don’t be the one to text first, don’t act too clingy, if he does ____  it means ____ etc etc etc. Even if you don’t believe in rules, it’s hard not to get sucked into patterns of behavior or states of mind in a relationship. Suddenly when you feel everything start to fall apart it becomes a game of should have’s and keeping quiet. I shouldn’t have done ____ , If only I had ____, I can’t say the wrong thing or I might drive so-and-so away, what will he think if I do ____, I don’t want to seem too clingy or like I’m invested more in this than so-and-so….

These are surface-y examples but even in deeper into relationships we feel the need to protect and to hide in order not to hurt the other person.  I frequently hear people say “I just don’t want to hurt anyone”. So it’s a game of trying to guess what other people want to hear and hiding what’s inside. On the surface, it’s a noble thought but ultimately it blocks any potential of being genuine and hurts much more than it would if the truth were on the table

What do we think we can do by protecting people or following the rules? I think I can control the situation. I think that if I do “X” I’ll get “Y”. While this may be true on some occasions, when we expect a “Y” from another human being, we assume we can control them or manipulate them to get what we want. Does this seem a little wrong to you? It does to me…  but feeling like I have some control is so much easier and less painful than feeling like I don’t… and it’s not vulnerable. Maybe people won’t leave me if I do X. Maybe I can avoid conflict altogether. My feelings don’t matter that much anyway right? What I’m feeling is stupid. I’ll get over it. It won’t matter in the long run anyway. It’s ok if people don’t know what I really think or feel…

But what happens when I'm not honest? I live a lie. Seems logical: if I'm not honest, I'm lying. But what does that really mean? What does it mean to lie to people and what kind of implications does this have? I lie to people all the time. I lie and say I'm good when people ask how my day is. I lie when I'm really annoyed with someone but don't want to tell them because it might cause a "problem". I lie when I'm angry at people for the same reason. I lie when people hurt me because I don't want them to hurt too. I lie when I'm trying to get something and do things I don't agree with. I lie when I am only the empathetic listener in all of my relationships but never share what I really feel. I live a lie. And what happens? No one ever knows me. I shut people out. I treat people like they are something to be controlled. I lose the opportunity to have genuine interactions with people - to express my hurt, and to let them do the same. I would even go as far as to say I lose a a part of my humanity... because I'm no longer allowed to be me and no longer allowed to feel and express what humans feel: hurt, anger, sadness, etc.   

The sad thing is, I would give a lot to know what people thought about me or what they feel when I’m around. I would give a lot for someone to call me out on this crap. I would give a lot for someone to yell at me and make me engage with them honestly. I would give a lot if someone would give up their own fear and BE with me in the moment. For someone to be themselves and give me permission to be me as well. And I want to be brave enough to do the same. I guess the way I see it is being honest is akin to giving another person everything I have. I think that’s the greatest gift anyone can give. It’s how we can grow, it’s how we can acknowledge our faults and our strengths, and it’s how we can give another important gifts and insights into their own self as well as figuring out our own. It’s how we can love. Truly love. Without expectation. Without idealization. Being and the giving someone else the opportunity to know you and choose to leave or stay on their own right. I mean, that’s one of the most beautiful things about love, right? When someone can see all of me and still accept me for exactly what I am and what I am becoming. To have all my flaws and strengths on the table, open and still have someone say they want to be with me. Yes, there is the potential of losing everything and some, maybe even most, people will walk away. And that hurts. A lot. But the possibility to be more is there. To truly love. Being honest is loving and inviting others to love.

Fear

“I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of my human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my Fool.” ― Theodore Isaac Rubin

Why hello people who read my blog. It’s been a long time. I haven’t wanted to write. And I’ve been a little too busy with some…. interesting struggles... to write. Let me elaborate a little.

I’m not afraid of loneliness, yet I claim it’s my deepest fear. When struck with the possibility that my plans won’t work out, thinking I might forever be lonely is just walking back to a place I know very well. It’s a dark place that smells melancholy and houses the Liz’s I never want to be. They sit there forlornly playing their regular games and uttering habitual conversation. Though it is an unhappy place, it is familiar. It doesn’t change. It is expected. It is dependable. Though it is a hopeless place, it is safe and I can lock everyone else out. Loneliness does not scare me, it is only an extension of what I’ve acknowledged as a solution before. Whenever fallen, it is automatically the answer. Whenever lost, I can always go back here.

What is really frightening is the unfamiliar. Venturing into a place full of hope for something more is something I have only begun to try. There is no door except the one you step out of. It is a vulnerable place. It is a place with no promise of something better, but holds every possibility. Bright and wild, it takes my breathe away… not as a tax like loneliness does, but as participation in life, as a tribute.  Breathing is a burden in loneliness. It is a labor, a struggle, a constant unnecessary “why?”. Breathing in a place where hope resides is liberating, vital, and purposeful, yet terrifying. Because while it is great to be alive, I never know which breathe will be my last.

This is analogous of course. I’m not literally dying or choosing to be alive in the physical sense. But in an existential sense, this is all very real. Death is bigger than simply being buried in the ground, it is the essence of why we – why I – am afraid. I’m afraid of losing the future. The death of the future. I’m afraid of losing relationships. The death of relationships. I’m afraid of losing the safety I’ve built for myself. The death of a Liz I’ve come to know well. I don’t know which breath will be my last.

Yet, my future was never guaranteed. My relationships are not completely in my hands. I cannot help but change as I continue to live. I have no control. And that’s terrifying. So I run away and hide and pretend I do have control. And to some degree I do: I can choose to venture forward into the unknown and be who I am regardless of outcome and have the possibility of the one thing I want most, or, I can hide and imprison myself in perpetual loneliness where no one can come in.

Seems like an easy choice, but surprise, surprise, changing who I’ve been basically my whole life is effing hard.

That’s why I haven’t wanted to write. I have about a dozen half finished blog posts all about things that I am only beginning to understand. All not finished because feeling can be really hard and lately my life has been hard and this huge change has been hard and I’m scared of letting everyone know. Everyone meaning the 3 people that read this anyway haha.

I’m done being afraid. 

Speed Limit Enforced By Aircraft

I love lying to people.

That's not true.

I love making up stories and trying to get people to believe absolutely ridiculous explanations for very regular phenomena.  I'm not sure why I do this or why I think it's so amusing, but it is. Most of my humor is very sarcastic and hyperbolic and the funny thing is, I'm pretty successful at getting people to believe what I'm saying. Like the time I convinced my brother that frog-eye salad is really made from frog eyes leading him to exclaim, "that's a lot of frogs!". Or when I convinced him that pasta grows from trees that originated in a pasta forest in Italy. Or that time when I convinced my other brother that a piece of wood was organic chicken and actually got him to eat it. Many of my lies are about food...

So I was in California a couple of weekends ago, and I'm always amused on my drive there because of these:

Really? Enforced by aircraft? Like California really has money to spend on jet fuel for planes to enforce the speed limit on I-15. That's not expensive or anything... So I did some EXTENSIVE research on the topic (i.e. I googled it). According to various, sketchy open internet forums full of apparent experts on speed limit enforcement, the topic is quite controversial. Some people claim to have been caught speeding by aircrafts who use little white flags on the highway to judge the speed of vehicles. When an aircraft identifies the offending vehicle they radio it in to a state trooper. Other people say, these signs were put up in the 90's when people thought aircraft enforcement would be economical. It wasn't, and it wasn't economical to take all the signs down either, so speed on. And still others say it's simply a psychological trick to make people think they're being watched so they obey the law.

So what's the real reason? What do these signs really mean?

There is surprisingly little, credible information on these signs, which led me to ask, "why is there so little credible information on these signs?" The answer is obvious. If we, as humans with little funds for such endeavors, were to enforce speed limits by aircraft, we would be wasting tons of money and time. Something bigger is afoot. Something bigger than a psychological trick to get us to obey the law. Maybe there's no information because it's kept secret and because no one who knows more has lived to tell the tale.

Speed enforced by aircraft means one thing: aliens. In the 1990's when these signs first appeared, the government was working on an intergalactic treaty with an alien life form. These aliens, being highly intelligent and way more advanced than us humans, were threatening to destroy the earth and use us as slaves for their own technological advancement. However, these aliens were surprised by our intelligence, not because it was anywhere close to their own, but because humans were intelligent enough to be protected by their ethical code for preserving intelligent life. But they still needed us for their own gain and were power-hungry enough to threaten world leaders, so they demanded a small portion of the human population as payment for not destroying Earth. After careful deliberation, alien experts and world leaders decided the most effective way to do this would be to have the aliens abduct people who break the law, namely, people who speed. All people who speed in designated areas are no longer protected by human, earthly laws but are under the jurisdiction of alien life forms who have free reign to do whatever they want with them. These areas would be well marked by signs saying "Speed enforced by aircraft" in order to warn those traveling to reduce their speed but not let on that other life-forms exist; secrecy was key because as soon as people began to catch on, the aliens might retract their agreement and destroy Earth anyway. And so it began. Since then, anyone caught speeding by the aliens has been beamed up into a spaceship and probably experimented upon, eaten, or cloned for slave labor. That's why no one knows what these signs mean.

Don't ever speed on I-15.

By the way, these are the same aliens depicted in the movie Cowboys and Aliens. This movie was only a flop because the government got wind of how accurate and awesome it was turning out to be and didn't want the Earth to be destroyed because of it. So they demanded that Jon Favreau and the writers of the movie make it slightly less awesome, and demanded that Harrison Ford not be an amazing actor in order to save the human race. It's ok Harrison, we know what really happened there and thanks for saving the world like you always do.

Something Greater

In 10^th grade during a free day in chemistry class, we watched a documentary. For those who don’t know, “documentary” is pronounced with the “ary” at the end, not a “tree”. Document-ARY. Yeah. Anyway, so this documentary was about these two French volcanologists (volcano scientists. Cool right?) who met in college, got married and became pioneers in filming volcanic eruptions. They traveled the world together, taking video and pictures of the world’s most active volcanoes. Nothing like this had ever really been done before. They wrote books together. They literally saved lives by showing footage of a volcano that was about to erupt to the president of Columbia who then ordered an evacuation. But in 1991, while scaling the side of an active volcano, they miscalculated the weak side of the mountain, the volcano erupted and they were killed instantly.

I remember sitting next to a friend of mine, who, after the film ended, said “Wow. That’s the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Studying volcanoes is a stupid thing to do”. I was completely baffled by his response... because here I was thinking that the story of Katia and Maurice Krafft was one of the most beautiful, tragic, inspiring stories I’d ever heard.  That what they had is the only thing I want.  Not that I want to die in a volcanic eruption (even though that would be pretty epic) or that it’s a good thing they died prematurely, but they had something that so rarely is so explicit. They had passion.

Not only passion for each other, but passion for something greater than them both. I don't remember the quote exactly but Katia said of their relationship that they loved volcanoes, and they loved each other, and ultimately their love could not exist without volcanoes because that's what brought them together. They were a team. Not only with each other but with the volcanoes they studied. Maurice called the volcanoes their "friends" because they had built a relationship with them. They committed themselves to each other and to geology. They committed to walk where no one else was brave enough to walk. Am I the only one who sees how absolutely amazing they were? How brave and bold and how alive they were? They expressed volcanoes never scared them. Coincidentally, Maurice said the day before they died "I am never afraid because I have seen so much eruptions in 23 years that even if I die tomorrow, I don't care". They were that committed...

Then they died together, by the very thing that brought them together. They had accepted death long before this moment, and accepted the power volcanoes had, and how they could never control what would happen to them. They were not afraid to live, to pursue, to love, even though they knew of the potential to get hurt, to die even, Yet they didn't ignore the possibility of pain, they accepted it and respected it.They were submissive, yet bold. They accepted fate, and forged ahead anyway. And they did so together, in pursuit of the truth. How honorable and fitting is it that they died together, with the very things they loved? What more could we ask for than a life filled with passion and love and purpose? What more could we ask for than a life committed to something greater?

Now obviously, I don't know Katia and Maurice. I don't know how their lives really were... I only know what I've read and what I've seen and the impact they had on the world. I don't know if their relationship was perfect, in fact, I doubt it was. I don't know if everything presented to me was truth. But regardless of  what I don't know, I do know that if I had the love they had, I wouldn't be afraid either. Even though most of us aren't going to find true love by studying volcanoes, maybe their story is representative of what we all can have by loving others and committing to something greater.

What I do at the mall

 Malls are fun. There's fun things to try on and never buy, really greasy food, and, most importantly, dozens of people to watch. Normal people, weird people, tired people, efficient people, people with relationship problems, rebels without a cause, bored cashiers, people trying to sell you things.... the list goes on and on. And the stuff you can do while people watching is endless.

Typically when I go to the mall, I'm the one watching other people but today, I was the weird person at the mall. I was the person people were watching, trying to figure out my motives. I even caught the gaze of people who were not invested in people watching.

See, for my sociology project I have to take pictures of commodified space, like a mall for instance. This mall in particular is structured to make you feel like you're outdoors, using natural lighting, real trees, and store fronts made to look like buildings, etc. Anyway, since I don't have a car I had to bike there and of course I dressed in my biking spandex which makes me look like a lame superhero. And I kept my helmet on because I didn't want to lose it. So there I was, in the mall, dressed head to toe in spandex, wearing a helmet and taking pictures of store fronts and the ceiling.

It was after catching a confused look from a couple who had been previously been making out that I decided to have a little fun. Instead of casually taking pictures like a person asked to do so for a research paper, I went undercover, hiding behind plants and dashing to and from hiding spots like a spy or an undercover agent or a private eye or a very childish college student wearing spandex.

What did I accomplish from my endeavors? I got plenty of stellar pictures (and plenty of blurry ones as I tried to take them mid-sprint), made a couple people laugh (including a pretty hot kiosk guy that was selling remote control helicopters) and I accidentally broke the lens protector off my camera. Was it worth it? That has yet to be decided by figuring out how long the warranty lasts on my camera. But other than that, it totally was!

Contrast

I’ve been writing little pieces of this idea for a long time and have mentioned it several times in previous posts. It’s certainly not a new idea by any means and it’s been written about before by many, many people and I’ve read many of these works myself. But there’s something about trying to formulate an idea for yourself that makes everything mean so much more… So here it is. It all makes sense in my head so I hope it can be bloggified in a way that isn’t totally confusing. I just don’t feel like putting a ton of effort into this. And by that, I mean I don’t want to have to worry about trying to make it so everyone understands what I’m saying because that’s really hard to do and I don’t feel like defending my thoughts. I'm a lazy pretend philosopher when it comes to blogging.

Anyway, so contrast. Here’s what I’m thinking.

Some of the greatest stories of love and forgiveness, of achievement, or simply of being an exceptional human being, come in the light of extreme sorrow, suffering and adversity. Why then are we so opposed to adversity? Why then do we try so hard to get rid of sorrow or depression or hate? We automatically assume that these things are inherently bad. But what if they’re not? What if they are opportunity for something greater? What if they are simply part of the experience? To be acknowledged and felt and accounted for? Not to be whisked away because they're uncomfortable. What if it’s only through this contrast that we are able to feel otherwise? Hate could never exist if there was nothing to love. And I don’t believe you could ever truly love if there was never any risk of losing it, or of hating your beloved, or of suffering to the extent that you love.  They give rise to each other.

Take for example the story of Corrie Ten Boom: survivor of the holocaust after hiding Jews in her house. After experiencing the horror of multiple concentration camps, after losing hope multiple times, after losing her sister, she still persevered. If that wasn’t incredible enough, she talks about her experience with a former Nazi guard that asked her to forgive him for the things he had done to her. And she said that in her mind she couldn’t forgive him and she hated him and there was no way she could ever see him as a human being. And yet, out of her hate and out of her faith and with God, she was able to do it. How remarkable is that? Yet, if she had never experienced what she had, this could have never happened. If she had not hated, she could have never forgiven. One cannot exist without the other. Here, Corrie was given an opportunity through her hate and through her experience to rise above and feel and give one of the greatest gifts we could ever ask for.

I mean, this kind of dialectic is found everywhere… In our understanding of good and evil, of right and wrong, of true and false. These kind of dichotomies are a world view that we have adopted. And they aren’t necessarily true or a good way of classifying the world because we need the wrong to know what the right is or the evil to know what the good is… Or think of colors. You could never know what white is, if there was no black.

But here’s where the problem with this idea come for me. If we cannot have joy without suffering, should we ever try to get rid of suffering? Think of social work policy for example. I think everyone agrees that preventing child abuse is a good thing. I certainly do! But what does that mean for this idea of contrast? If suffering is an opportunity, then should we ever try to take that away from someone else? Or should we just say, “hey yeah I know you’re being abused and it sucks but this is a great opportunity for you!”…. yeah, that’s not working for me. And what does it mean for other, bigger conflicts? When people are ravaged by war, or poverty, or whatever, should we stop it? Or is that the opportunity to do good? By stopping it?

My worry is that, especially in social policy, we try too hard to reach a stasis, or place where suffering and bad things can’t happen to people and everyone has the services they need and don’t have to worry or go through really bad things. It makes logical sense that we would want to do that but I don’t believe that’s even feasible or a good thing. But, implicitly, that’s what programs are aimed at. What does stasis mean? It means there is no contrast… That there is no possibility to feel happy because there is no possibility to feel bad. Are we then taking away the opportunity to live a richer life?

This is obviously over-simplified and generalized and I’m sure I’m missing something… I’m just not sure what that something is yet or how to find it… And I'm simultaneously picking apart everything I wrote because it's not a sound argument and has plenty of holes and places to be filled in. But, on a less serious note, today I made two pieces of toast. The first one I left in the toaster too long and it burned really badly but since I hate wasting food I tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be that bad. But it WAS that bad. It was disgusting. So I had to make another piece and let me tell you... that second piece was the most delicious piece of toast I’ve ever tasted…

Welcome to my brain, internet. Haha.

Some chocolate covered delicacies and some unclear philosophy

I’ve felt for a long time that I’ve been on the brink of something big. Something important… like a serious change or some random event like winning the lottery. I don’t know what this something is or if there even is a something…. But I feel a something. Whatever that means.

I’ve expressed before how I feel like two people. Like I’m one person on the outside and totally different on the inside. Like a chocolate covered cherry… except I don’t think I’m that delicious. Maybe more like… a chocolate covered bug. Because they seem pretty normal from the outside but only people with a select palate actually like eating them.  And I’m perfectly ok with being a bug because I would totally eat a chocolate covered bug. Heck, I’ve eaten several non-chocolate bugs largely due to my tendency to never back down on a challenge or my willingness to weird things for a small sum of money. No prostitute jokes please.

Anyway, this two person thing is like I’m this chocolate covered bug on a plate of chocolate covered cherries. I’m just pretending to be a cherry and for all intents and purposes I am a cherry: I look like a chocolate covered cherry, I’m with chocolate covered cherries, I act like a chocolate covered cherry, and sometimes I actually believe I’m a chocolate covered cherry. That is, until someone tries to eat me, then, unless they like tasting bug guts instead of the cherry they were expecting, the game is up. And suddenly I’m confronted with the gap between what I wanted be and what I actually am. A big, terrifying gap that really shouldn’t be there.

Once in a while, when I’m feeling brave, I’ll acknowledge the gap. I’ll consider building a bridge over it or sewing it together or go exploring down it. But I only go as far as I don’t get hurt. At the first sign of the acknowledgement being difficult or unsure in anyway I abandon the project and continue pretending to be a chocolate covered cherry.

But this time, I don’t think I’m going to abandon it. For the first time in literally years I’ve really felt what I feel. I’ve been afraid of it, frustrated by it, hurt by it. This whole process is like stepping into the dark and all I have to hold onto is faith that this will end up ok. That by stepping into the gap, even though I can’t see the bottom, I won’t literally die. I might figuratively die but I think that would be ok. 

I can’t really explain how lost I feel and yet how utterly found I am. Lost because I’ve abandoned control (which I endlessly covet) and found because whether this is good or not, it’s where I need to be. Found because as I’ve stepped into the void, all I’ve had is faith to keep from turning around. Faith that I’m doing what I’ve been asked to do.

It’s so much easier to deny the existence of something that hurts you than to acknowledge it and accept it and welcome it. It’s easy to avoid feeling pain in order to save oneself. But in the process we deny the experience of it and we deny the meaning of it and we deny ourselves the possibility to feel anything other than an emptiness. I don’t think we can ever really understand the meaning of anything good in the world without accepting and even embracing its contrast.

I think for the first time, I’m actually understanding what I’ve known in my mind is true, because I’m coming to know it in my heart. And it hurts. It hurts a lot. Like when your hands have gone numb from the cold for a really long time and they start to thaw. Sometimes it’s really tempting to stay outside because you know how bad it will hurt to come back in. But I don’t think I can be outside any longer. Just like I can’t pretend to be a chocolate covered cherry any longer.

....

I’m really tempted to abandon this chocolate covered cherry analogy because it assumes people can’t change who they are and I whole-heartedly don’t agree with that idea. And I’m disappointed I don’t have any chocolate covered cherries to eat right now because they always sound delicious. That's all I have to say.