the lost man chronicles
the perpetual evolution of truth .88
"The truth is, Mitch," he said, "Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live."i have spoken to the truth of how we all lie before, but allow me to lie with you once more to look up into the heavens of our ideals and ponder the cognitive scales with which we weigh liability and the truth.
~ Tuesdays with Morrie, Mitch Albom
lies are little protections, we should not hold them against those who are only trying to protect themselves and not intended to hurt another.
thus, i beseech you, please lie, especially if your sole intentions are to amuse me.
as long as we do not act in malice, making up stories together, especially living them ensembles—making believe what is true, and making true what we believe—can be wonderful (full of wonder).
once again, this is not the advocacy of deception for personal gain, but rather the suggestion that lying can be a matter of creating illusions that primarily intend to entertain and seduce. after all, that is exactly what acting is, it is the very essence of showmanship, ask david blaine - he knows the truth.
moreover, the purest truth is not professed, but revealed over time, it is the subtle and sublime fruition of our cumulative actions, for not only do actions speak louder than words, they tell the truth much better than words as well.
hence, to live an honest life one must accept the tenet of the perpetual evolution of truth. truth is a never-ending gobbstopper, it is the whopper we make every time anew for ourselves, it is always in motion and forever elusive until we die.
more importantly, one should allow herself to occasionally lie a little, as long as you don't actually hurt someone, because quite frankly, one of the best ways to have fun is to lie.
for that reason, children are the both our purest truthsayers and our greatest liars, for they are quite free to be —because they have yet learned completely what they should and should not do in order to repress their jovial and idiosyncratic natures, so that they can satisfy the common needs of society. they can make-believe without consequences, they can still be "it" for a moment, they can play god, monsters, and, as most parents know—be devils as their whims suit them.
ironically, as we grow older, we begin to repress the truth that we were once able to speak so freely, when we were children. rather than learning to evolve the truth, we learn to lie well instead, so that we may appease others' misperceptions of what we ought to do, to be, to say and when we ought to indulge, laugh and play. this is perhaps one of the greatest tragedies of modern adulthood, that we are taught to believe there is a right time for playing, for the spirit of playing knows no limits, nor constraints as to when, where and how. in the end, it just becomes serious fun, and thus, not very funny.
this is why the greatest artists have always acted and worked like children, they understand that ultimately the greatest source of activity stems from the ability to lose our socially wrought self and allow the spring of our true natures to arise from within. this letting go and tapping into allows one to "lie," to make magic, to suspend disbelief, to turn what is tragic and interminable grief into merely an experience of life to learn from.
Mudd Puddles and Dandelions from Lorraine Pastega
When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard; My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.
When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away. My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.
When I hear music I love, I know I can't carry a tune and don't have much rhythm so I sit self-consciously and listen. My kids feel the beat and move to it. They sing out the words, if they don't know them, they make up their own.
When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk. My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it, until they fall to the ground laughing.
When I pray, I say thee and thou and grant me this, and give me that. My kids say, "Hi God! Thanks for my toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don't want to go to Heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy. "
When I see a mud puddle, I step around it. I see muddy shoes and dirty carpets. My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross and worms to play with.
I wonder if we are given children to teach or to learn from? No wonder God loves the little children!!
the less scruples .87 89. our relatively disappearing reality