In my book A Nobody’s Observations I wrote about how Telling The Truth can set me free. So for a while, I’ve been trying to be as truthful as possible. I believe that truth can be delivered with compassion no matter how painful it seems.
But what happens when I’m not being told the truth? When someone was not being honest to me?
I understand that everybody has their own version of the truth, but to take the truth and to sugarcoat it, then dip it in honey, wrap it in shiny paper and wear it on your sleeves feels not quite right. Being only human, I felt betrayed because the person felt I was unworthy of the truth, and that his level of respect for me was close to nothing in the first place. When you respect someone, you strive to be as honest as you can. When you don’t respect, you try to find ways to make yourself look good, or you don’t want me to feel bad, when it would have been more compassionate to just tell me the truth.
So I took these feelings and evaluated them. Gone are the days where I want to stab someone in a poetic sense or transform into a witch and utter spells to curse his life. It didn’t feel that way here.
I still haven’t found the insight as to what I’m supposed to feel out of this, and it sure as heck has created a spark of distrust towards people for the time being. I want to say “I’m happy for you,” but sadly I can’t bring myself to genuinely feel that way because it doesn’t tally with his words earlier. My sincerity, if at first was real, that I truly expect nothing in return, had been compromised for this piece of learnt information.
Ah, an insight has come – that my sincerity had been based on his words after all. That I had leaned on them and took them to be the whole truth. Next time, I can’t rest my sincerity on anything. I am sincere because I am sincere. And I am sincere because I believe with sincerity comes respect, with respect comes love, and with love comes world peace.
Insya-Allah. Please remind me when I forget.