” I don’t want people to talk to me like I am smart. I want them to talk to me like I am pretty.” ~ Josh
Why, for the love of all creation, would this obviously astute person, who has the capability of rapidly taking any innocuous comment and transforming it into a dynamic ball of witty sarcasm, actually want to lower his standard of conversation? Of course the joke within the joke is that if anyone were dense enough to fundamentally speak to this person as if he were “pretty”, he would be so reviled that his only option would be to look at the offender as if they were “pretty”, and incredulously walk away. I found it to be a hilarious oxymoron.
Aside from the obvious humor in the statement there was a philosophical contempt that was not lost on me. Maybe it wasn’t so much an oxymoron that had my thinker nervously a twitter. Perhaps it was the acrid truth about an aspect of human nature I find so morally repugnant, it instantly had my brain on the floor laughing its ass off but, my throat could only muster a dubious chortle.
Grudgingly, I have come to accept that a vast majority of people are not as attracted to living by the dictates of truth as they would have themselves believe. In fact people will go to great lengths to avoid the truth, including, but not limited to, deluding themselves. Being the egomaniac that I am, I used to think the deception was directed at me. I have come to understand my only role in the absurdity is to validate the imposed illusion.
Q: If truth is what we say we want, why avoid it with such stubborn vehemence (masculine energy driven traits I might add)?
A: The truth hurts.
It is honestly that simple an answer.
Consider this from a practical standpoint. If physical pain is our organic machine’s warning system that there is something threatening our physical health, wouldn’t it stand to reason that emotional pain would be our soul’s warning system that our mental and emotional health needs our immediate attention? Consequently, if the perception is, truth is going to cause pain, instinctually and logically lying or accepting a lie should cause comfort. The crux of it is, more often than not, lying can also cause pain.
Crap! A conundrum.
I believe this is where our soul’s instinct wrestles with our soul’s evolution. At this point society agrees that lies begat lies and the repercussion of a lifetime of avoiding the truth results in misery (and possible Karmic Debt if you believe in it). Society also agrees that living by and accepting truth is liberating for the soul and leads to happiness. So why are the truth seekers immensely out numbered by those who choose to avoid the truth?
It’s the trap of the “quick fix”. It’s the seduction of instant gratification over long-term fulfillment.
When I was 16 my mother took me to the pediatrician to get booster shots. I was practically a woman sitting with a lacy pink sweater that had a plunging v-shaped neckline that insinuated I might have boobs someday (twenty years later I am still waiting for them). My skirt lightly draped my legs in a flowing bohemian fashion. So prim and proper I waited for the nurse.
Despite my reputation for hating needles I was determined to maintain my demure composure as the nurse skillfully applied the inoculations. My mother patiently waited next to me, proud that I had finally outgrown the fears of a 5-year-old. I watched as the nurse tap tapped the air out of the syringe. I was fearless…for about five seconds.
As soon as the nurse got close enough to me for the hair on my arm to feel the presence of the needle all outward appearances of serenity were gone. Mom was not quick enough to snatch me before I bolted off of the table almost scratching myself on the needle. There I was repetitively stammering my objections in two letters while Mom caught hold of my sleeve.
In spite of my best efforts to wriggle free of the sweater, which was now half way over my head, my mother was quickly gaining leverage over my body. I was tripping over my romantically delicate skirt creating such stress on the fabric that my legs had lost their freedom. That was all the advantage that mom needed to pin me like a greased pig reducing me to sounds of squealing and grunting. The nurse, with amiable dexterity, administered the shot and…it was over.
Really, at the age of 16!!! All of that hoopla over an event that could have taken less than five seconds. Instead of accepting that there would be pain, albeit brief, I chose to treat the situation as if it were a bone marrow transfusion. Instead of deferring to fleeting discomfort so that I would not have to endure days of affliction by sickness; I chose alternatively to make a complete ass of myself, endure self-imposed embarrassment, and reduce my favorite outfit to nothing more suitable than rags. A perfectly pointless exercise in avoidance because I still got the shot.
If we could understand in our hearts, not just our heads, that a moment of pain to gain a lifetime of enlightenment will far out weigh the consequences of a moment of respite from lessons unlearned, then the lengths of time we get to enjoy inner peace and tranquillity will be longer than we imagined.
I understand that the quest for personal and cultural illumination is a treacherous one indeed. A children’s movie, ‘The Never Ending Story’, does superlative justice illustrating that the most difficult trial of our human experience is to face the reality of one’s self. To look in the mirror and accept the reflection is the easiest test of valor to fail and the most burdensome illusion to maintain if one is lacking it.
To accept the reality of our sum total can conjure such pain and sorrow because of perceived failure, that it could decimate the very fabric of the “truths” we have spun for ourselves. To sit at life’s loom and weave again a set of values can appear to be insurmountable work. It would take courage that many feel they do not have, and a willingness for introspection. Who wants to deal with the frustrations of all of those complications?
I do. The long-term rewards of choosing to evolve past our instincts surpass the results and anguish of a life knowingly unrealized. I find tremendous inspiration in the knowledge that there are many of us that are both delighted and passionate about supporting those who want more than the uncomplicated efforts of “pretty”…
Feminine Energy 