I wake this morning wondering what it might be like to really live an honest life. That’s not to say I deliberately lie, but in noticing discrepancies in stories others tell I also notice my own often unconscious fiction.

There’s so much of this around.

The leading coach who blocks one of his students for challenging him on his embellishment, and then claims vulnerability and honesty, and to not want to be surrounded by yes-men. Which is true?

The wife who contacts an ex-boyfriend and asks to be rescued from her life, then declaring when with her husband she is where she belongs. Which is true?

The friend who claims they will be there, even if you are honest with them, then decides they no longer want your friendship after you open up a little more. Which is true?

Those who claim to share everything with you, yet have conversations about you with others that are ‘just between us.’ Which is true?

I am not immune or innocent in this dishonesty. And of course it is one of those things that we see if we search for it. Much of it simply passes us by.

It may be infinitely small; not admitting to what we want when asked, even off the menu in Nando’s. Or a big fat one, with a big side order of fear: ’I don’t want to be with you.’

Or ‘I do!’

I want to be impeccable with my word. I notice the times I am not are usually because I want to protect the feelings of another. And of course my ‘self.’ Untruths are always rooted in fear, often parts of ourselves we are not only afraid to show others, but afraid to know about ourselves.

I want to live in a world where my trust in everyone is not misplaced. I am very willing to trust, even though at times it may feel unwise. I am okay with having my ego hurt in my openness to love.

There will always be things we don’t willingly share, I think everyone is entitled to the privacy of their own mind. Confidentiality is not the same as the misrepresentation of truth. Ask me anything, I will share my truth with you, albeit with the occasional reluctance of my ego.

If there is something I don’t want you to know about me it is because I fear you will no longer love me, which of course you always will. Even if you think you won’t.

Fear separates us, from each other and from life. Love unites.

Honesty and truth connects us. Not always with the people our egos would like, but always with those who share our hearts.

In my pondering I can see an opportunity to not only embrace my own humanness, but also that of others. We’re all often shit scared. So maybe we can use our observation of the dishonesty of fear as an invitation to allow forth our compassion. For ourselves and for others.

I’m sorry if you feel you need to lie to me. I love you anyway. I will always love you. And yes, that includes you too, Phil.

Our dark secrets keep us in the shadows, shielded from the light and liberation of truth, of love, of life.

What might it be like to really live an honest life? In love, alive and free.