Early this week, a friend delivered truthful words that had never before been spoken out loud. They were about me. What made it interesting is that this friend wasn’t at all aware that he had said out loud words that had remained, even to the one who lives them, silent. Such revelations can shake you to the core, and this shook me alright. And as he walked away, I was left alone to grapple with the idea of having been ‘found out’.
I have pursued my truth for a lifetime believing that there lies my rainbow. It hasn’t been an easy road, and perhaps truth is not for the weak. Truth be told (hmm..couldn’t help myself), truth is a very tough gig. That I continue to pursue it speaks volumes about how and what it has fed me over the decades. With all my heart I believe that the more authentic I can be, the more me I am, the richer my life, and with that comes my peace and my voice.
So, it’s been a difficult week, a week of vulnerability and reconciliation with myself as I attempt to accept and embrace and integrate some new truth into my life. Why I choose to share this here is two-fold I think. The first is that my sense of truthfulness has always come from the artist within – you cannot create a lie. And you can't be a writer if you fear truth. The second is so you may know you're not alone . . .