Naked Truth

The Truth and the Lie meet one day. The Lie says to the Truth: “It’s a marvelous day today!” The Truth looks up to the skies and sighs, for the day was really beautiful. They spend a lot of time together, ultimately arriving beside a well. The Lie tells the Truth: “The water is very nice, let’s take a bath together!” The Truth, once again suspicious, tests the water and discovers that it indeed is very nice.

They undress and start bathing. Suddenly, the Lie comes out of the water, puts on the clothes of the Truth and runs away. The furious Truth comes out of the well and runs everywhere to find the Lie and to get her clothes back. The World, seeing the Truth naked, turns its gaze away, with contempt and rage.

The poor Truth returns to the well and disappears forever, hiding therein, its shame. Since then, the Lie travels around the world, dressed as the Truth, satisfying the needs of society, because, the World, in any case, harbours no wish at all to meet the naked Truth.

19th century legend

Yet there are those who refusing to heed the warnings and fears of the World dive into the well, some with a breathing apparatus of one sort of another, some merely holding their breath.

They move deeper and still deeper into the well. They wiggle through narrow openings. They even take in a last breath and remove their gear. Still Truth eludes them, for they might be agents of the Lie.

Finally, their stores of air depleted, light and life slipping from their eyes, she cradles them, the seekers of the Truth.



I ran into one of Dad’s doctors today. They’re hard to catch since as hospitalists they don’t see patients for office visits. He got on the elevator I was using. We both looked at each other as though we’d seen each other before. Then I read his name on his coat and realized that he’d seen Dad in those final weeks. I thanked him for what he did for Dad. I called the case managers who had worked with Dad. Hopefully I can cross paths with the other three doctors and the nurses. Leaving messages is fine if that’s all you’re able to do. It’s nice to be able to thank someone in person.

Sustaining life with the lifeless

I eat fast food a few times a week. Today I went through the drive-thru and bought a burger. I took a bite of it while sitting in my car. Somewhere between the taste and the smell a rather curious thought invaded my mind, which was on several other things at the time.

‘This food is dead.’

After staring at the thing for a few seconds, and after a few more bites, I tossed about half. I didn’t feel nauseous. The whole ordeal was just unappetizing.

This was my intuition talking, and I’m listening now. So I guess this means I’ll be fumbling in the direction of a more vegetarian diet. I’m sure my doctors will be pleased, and my body, after many protests, will get on board.

Step one is weaning myself off of fast food. The burgers, the fries, the onion rings, the hush puppies, the cheese curds, the fish, the scrimps, the chicken, the occasional shakes, all of it has to go. Fresher things will have to take its place.

It’s not going to be easy. The cravings will get kinda loud. And I’m sure I’ll slip several times along the way, and that’s okay.

A year of living intuitively

Actually, probably for life. It’s how the proverbial ‘year of living dangerously’ applies to me right now.

2018 has become quite the year of change, and it probably began on 16 Dec. 2017 when my SUV caught fire. I lost my Dad in early June of this year, and I’m still adjusting to that. This new approach to living is probably related to the changes his death has spurred.

I use several terms from psychology here. What I have to say is based a little on things I’ve read, and mostly on my observations.

I guess you could say that I grew up with an underdeveloped intuitive sense. The subject never came up during my elementary and Jr. High years. By the time high school arrived I was on the late 1970s version of STEM-track courses…algebra, geometry, 2nd year algebra, trigonometry, and pre-calculus. My schooling was one of right and wrong answers, black and white, checkmarks and exes. While life at home didn’t constantly reinforce this emphasis on exactness, it didn’t encourage fuzzy perspectives enough to balance the binary-ness.

My first experience with non-binary ‘thinking’ in an education setting was physics class at UT Austin. Physics was really bad about that, with a score of 23 being a B, and there were always two or three kids on the front row who scored in the upper 90s on tests. The whole experience was kinda surreal. I really don’t remember being graded on a curve in high school, and certainly not before that. A couple of my teachers might have mentioned it in grade school but memory doesn’t serve.

As a child I’d hear the words womens’ intuition but never mens’. At the same time I’d hear about men and boys and gut instinct or going with their gut in making decisions.

It’s the same thing.

It’s a tool. It’s necessary for your survival as a human, along with your intellect, your feelings, and emotions.

Women seem to have a better and certainly less aggressive way of operating in it. I think it has to do with the way most girls are raised. When I was four or five and in nursery school I was taught two jingles. Girls are made up of sugar and spice, and everything nice, and boys are made up of frogs and snails, and puppy dog tails. It’s a cute picture when you’re approaching kindergarten. Growing up girls carry the sweetness they had as children into womanhood. Boys are taught to suppress the sweetness and embrace anger and aggression as they move into manhood. This is not healthy.

For my entire adult life I’ve had trouble seeing the grey. I’ve been pretty judgmental, and that’s not limited to my time in Christianity, although I have found western religion to be rather enabling in that regard. I’ve viewed the world as black and white, while seeing greys in the mirror. That’s messed up. And it’s something I am trying to change.

Then what does it mean, living intuitively? It’s taking a more right-brained approach to how I view the world. There are blacks and whites, but they’re dots next to one another on paper. They’re pixels on a screen. And if you back away a little you can see the grey. On top of that if you stare at the grey for long enough the colors start to manifest. It means doing things that aren’t always well thought out. It’s switching directions in the middle of something…sometimes several times before completion. It’s sudden changes of plans. It’s stopping to help a stranger instead of heading to wherever you thought you were headed during your lunch break. It’s often chaotic. It’s random. It doesn’t always make sense. It’s letting the heart lead.

For someone who found comfort in the concrete, a spacewalk, even tethered, is kinda scary. I sometimes feel an urge to retreat to the familiar…to plan it all out. But what’s familiar is decreasingly useful. I’m sure I’ll second-guess my intuitive direction, and I’ll probably screw something up and have to get out the mop. It’s okay. I give myself permission to make a mess. It’s a life-long learning process and not something with a cap and gown at the end.