Honesty

How much can we really take?

How much should we really share?

Full honesty is more than anyone really wants I suppose...I’ve always said I wanted it, those types of relationships, totally free and honest...but could I really take it? Could anyone? I think it might be impossible.

Those that love me see what I can take, and only give me that much. They protect me. They pat me on the head and let me stay in my comfortable world, or, sometimes they like me to be a party to theirs. I can’t blame them really, I guess I'm the same with those I love. I have a little compassionate awareness about what they can handle, or, more selfishly, what I’m willing for them to handle. Just like every time I visit my parents--I shake them up just a little with all my thoughts and feelings, but not enough to freak them out.

And so it goes...we work around the honesty. We deny it, talk ourselves out of it and don’t allow the difficult truths to be true.

But that takes space, not to mention energy. Next thing you know there’s something there beside the truth--there are arguments and explanations and near-truths where honesty used to be. I think we work around these things, and try and live in the in-between space.

It's not anyone's fault, it's just how it is. We try to make some truths not-truths, we demand everything fit within our worldview and we protect each other and ourselves. It's not a bad thing, but sometimes that protection clouds our vision and knowledge about how to proceed. We keep truth at arms length until we're ready to see it and even then we have to be convinced. That’s what I do. I fight off Truth until he gets his bigger friend Reality to stare me down.

But I'm finding that when I man-up, get some guts and decide to accept difficult truths I’m moving forward, changing a little. It's hard and it takes courage, but when I catch a glimpse of it, and when I quit trying to stop it, I feel a bit of a rush. Hey, I might actually gain some ground and get to go somewhere new....

But wait...not at the expense of my well-being, my comforts and my...it's not going to cost me that is it? That can’t be right....

I've even tried to take some discoveries back. It’s like I want to take my new clothes back, and go back to wearing my old comfy ones. These jeans aren’t that out-of-style, I felt skinny and great in them for a long time--they were my go-to pair...I can certainly still fit into them, right? These new ones cost too much, I can’t possibly really need these...

As it turns out, life is damn expensive. At this point I have no idea what it’s going to cost, and I absolutely hate that I’m required to pry open my wallet and throw down the card without knowing the bottom line.

I feel like I’m on the horribly uninteresting New Jersey Turnpike and I’m at the toll booth. Now I’m from California where freeways are actually free, so I hate that I'm even having to stop. What? More money? Just to drive on this road? Through New Jersey? Haven’t my taxes already paid for this?

It doesn’t feel right--making my way forward is costing me. I don’t like it, and there's no guarantee there's anything better ahead...although...isn't New York City at the end of the New Jersey Turnpike?

Shouldn't life be free...thoughts, feelings, dreams? Well, I suppose they are, but it’s in the living up to them, the owning them, that the price gets high. I never even like to look at things I'm not sure I can afford. And, I always want someone else to see the same value in it as I do, to reassure me that I haven’t paid too much. I hate buyer's regret.

But that ain’t how it works. There’s no return policy, and you can't just spin around on the turnpike. You have to pay the toll first, then you get to see where you go. Never the opposite.

But I am catching a glimpse of something...even from here...a spire...

Isn't that...is that...the Empire State Building?