As children, we are told not to lie, that honesty is the best policy. But I wonder how many of us grew up seeing the adults around us embody this rule. When I was growing up, what was considered "true" seemed relative. At an early age, I saw that everyone appeared to have their own version of the truth, which sometimes didn't match my own experience of it.
I think that as we mature, while most of us uphold certain virtues of truth, at the same time we might also dodge certain truths about ourselves. It's not entirely our faults, we live in a world that at once tells us to be honest but also insists on instructing us what to buy, what to wear, what to eat, what to look like, how to be.
Sometimes the truth just plain old hurts. And it's easier to just deny it.
Generally, I consider myself an honest person. I am a law-abiding citizen. Barring some minimal acts of piracy, I don't steal or cheat. I'm a good friend. I try to give sincere advice when my input is sought after.
But these days, I am seeing that being honest about deep down things continues to be tricky for me. And to address this, I guess, I am trying to be honest about it.
I definitely attribute this spark of self-awareness to my yoga practice, which seems designed to excavate just about every secret passage and unanswered mystery inhabiting this human body of mine. Even when I think I'd rather leave things alone. There's no embracing the status quo here, not if you're really practicing yoga, which doesn't only help you accept change but is also an agent of change itself. And, of course, yoga teaches --no surprise here!--"satya," or truthfulness.
Recently, I've been asking myself, am I acting in a way that is in accordance with my true nature? Because sometimes my own truth is buried so deeply underneath a pile of old expectations, misidentifications, of misplaced desires, of fears of non-acceptance that I barely recognize what's really me.
And so tonight, as I dig into the recesses of my own heart, trying to figure out how I actually feel, I pray for truth-full-ness. I ask to be brimming with it.
I think that as we mature, while most of us uphold certain virtues of truth, at the same time we might also dodge certain truths about ourselves. It's not entirely our faults, we live in a world that at once tells us to be honest but also insists on instructing us what to buy, what to wear, what to eat, what to look like, how to be.
Sometimes the truth just plain old hurts. And it's easier to just deny it.
Generally, I consider myself an honest person. I am a law-abiding citizen. Barring some minimal acts of piracy, I don't steal or cheat. I'm a good friend. I try to give sincere advice when my input is sought after.
But these days, I am seeing that being honest about deep down things continues to be tricky for me. And to address this, I guess, I am trying to be honest about it.
I definitely attribute this spark of self-awareness to my yoga practice, which seems designed to excavate just about every secret passage and unanswered mystery inhabiting this human body of mine. Even when I think I'd rather leave things alone. There's no embracing the status quo here, not if you're really practicing yoga, which doesn't only help you accept change but is also an agent of change itself. And, of course, yoga teaches --no surprise here!--"satya," or truthfulness.
Recently, I've been asking myself, am I acting in a way that is in accordance with my true nature? Because sometimes my own truth is buried so deeply underneath a pile of old expectations, misidentifications, of misplaced desires, of fears of non-acceptance that I barely recognize what's really me.
And so tonight, as I dig into the recesses of my own heart, trying to figure out how I actually feel, I pray for truth-full-ness. I ask to be brimming with it.
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