Home
when I was in grade school I really enjoyed lying. Not the white lies you tell your mom when you ate cookies that you weren't supposed to. I'm talking about the elaborate lies you tell friends to make yourself appear to be better than you are. I remember convincing my friends in 3rd grade that my father was the President of Coca Cola. I remember convincing my friends in 5th grade that I had gone deaf in one ear. That was a lot of fun. As I got older, my lying continued. I enjoyed people's reactions to my seemingly amazing life. When I was 15 that all changed. I met someone I really looked up to (he was 17). He became a mentor for me as I began my foray into the astral world. He's the one who helped me raise my vibration so the "ookie spookies" wouldn't bother me. He's the one who put me on the path of honesty and integrity. And he did it by hurting me so badly that I changed instantly. Here's what happened.
In my usual fashion, I told him lies just like I had been telling other people. I made up elaborate stories to get him to be more interested in me because I wasn't sure the truth would be enough to make him want to continue working with me. But he knew me so well, probably better than I knew myself. One day he told me, "I can't talk to you on the phone anymore because I can't see your eyes and so I'm not sure when you're lying to me." That really shocked me. One, because I didn't know he knew I had been lying to him sometimes, and two, because he was willing to end our friendship over those lies. I vowed in that moment that I would never lie to him again. It was a hard transition for me to make because I was used to exaggerating stories and experiences to get attention. But for him, and for his wise counsel, I made a pact with myself never to tell even one single white lie to him again. In time, his trust in me was rebuilt and we enjoyed a great friendship and relationship.
That's how I learned the value of honesty. I decided that I would honor the truth. I decided that the truth was powerful and strong, and that lies merely created a false foundation that could crumble at the slightest poking. I realized that I felt more powerful when I told the truth. I felt like I was helping to build reality instead of creating a false Matrix-like reality. As Merlin said in the movie, Excalibur, to Arthur, "When a man lies, he murders some part of the world." It's true. Every lie you tell alters the universe and makes it unreal.
In my 20's, I had a friend who was a pathological liar. Her life was based on lies and the elaborateness of her lies would put my early days to shame. We discussed honesty a lot, and I told her that I couldn't trust that she was telling me the truth since she told me so often of the lies she was telling other people. In a way, I did to her what my mentor did to me. I told her that I couldn't be her friend unless I knew I could trust her. She asked me how to be honest all the time. My answer was simple:
Never do something you will have to lie about later. If you have to lie about it, you shouldn't be doing it.
After all, if you feel good about what you're doing, why would you lie about it? Don't we lie when we are ashamed of who we are or what we've done?
Make your life something you don't need to lie about. Value truth and honesty. Decide from this day forward that you will be completely honest and truthful in all your dealings (with others and yourself). Imagine what our world would be like if no one lied. Help create that world by honoring the truth.
In my usual fashion, I told him lies just like I had been telling other people. I made up elaborate stories to get him to be more interested in me because I wasn't sure the truth would be enough to make him want to continue working with me. But he knew me so well, probably better than I knew myself. One day he told me, "I can't talk to you on the phone anymore because I can't see your eyes and so I'm not sure when you're lying to me." That really shocked me. One, because I didn't know he knew I had been lying to him sometimes, and two, because he was willing to end our friendship over those lies. I vowed in that moment that I would never lie to him again. It was a hard transition for me to make because I was used to exaggerating stories and experiences to get attention. But for him, and for his wise counsel, I made a pact with myself never to tell even one single white lie to him again. In time, his trust in me was rebuilt and we enjoyed a great friendship and relationship.
That's how I learned the value of honesty. I decided that I would honor the truth. I decided that the truth was powerful and strong, and that lies merely created a false foundation that could crumble at the slightest poking. I realized that I felt more powerful when I told the truth. I felt like I was helping to build reality instead of creating a false Matrix-like reality. As Merlin said in the movie, Excalibur, to Arthur, "When a man lies, he murders some part of the world." It's true. Every lie you tell alters the universe and makes it unreal.
In my 20's, I had a friend who was a pathological liar. Her life was based on lies and the elaborateness of her lies would put my early days to shame. We discussed honesty a lot, and I told her that I couldn't trust that she was telling me the truth since she told me so often of the lies she was telling other people. In a way, I did to her what my mentor did to me. I told her that I couldn't be her friend unless I knew I could trust her. She asked me how to be honest all the time. My answer was simple:
Never do something you will have to lie about later. If you have to lie about it, you shouldn't be doing it.
After all, if you feel good about what you're doing, why would you lie about it? Don't we lie when we are ashamed of who we are or what we've done?
Make your life something you don't need to lie about. Value truth and honesty. Decide from this day forward that you will be completely honest and truthful in all your dealings (with others and yourself). Imagine what our world would be like if no one lied. Help create that world by honoring the truth.
