Universal Rules
# 17. Always Tell the Truth, as You Know It.
Alter Your Language so Others May Hear Your Truth.
click
here for the full list of rules
This week's article dovetails with last
week's. One of the main points I made
last week was that we benefit from being aware of how we say what we say. In
other words, our motivation – the selection of our words – determines the
effect of what we say.
This concept will link perfectly with the second sentence of "Rule"
17, above. We'll get
there, after we have a look at telling the truth.
One of the lead stories in the Toronto Star today (Wednesday) contained
excerpts from Hillary Clinton's soon to be released autobiography,
Living History. Being the
prurient sort that we in the West tend to be, the focus
of the article was Hillary's dealing with Bill's peccadilloes with Monica.
Hillary writes that Bill lied about the "depth" (god, I'm having
trouble not running out and measuring the length of a cigar…J
) of his involvement with Monica. The lie went on for some months, and it was
only when Bill was due to testify that he decided to come clean with Hillary.
His logic, such as it was, was, "I was trying to protect you and
Chelsea."
One wants to ask, "So, how'd that work out for you, Bill?"
Lying starts in childhood. It starts when kids discover that there are
parental-enforced-consequences to their behaviour. Being devious sorts, we all
went through a phase of thinking, much like Bill, "what they don't know
won't hurt them." In a sense, then, lying to others begins with this first,
biggest lie.
In order to lie to another, I first have to lie to myself.
For children, the "self-lie" is: "If I lie, I'll get away with this."
For adults, the "self-lie" is: "He'll only hurt himself if I tell the truth,
so I'm lying to make it easier on him. Besides, I'm an adult, and some stuff
should just be kept private!"
The cosmic joke in all of this is two-fold:
- we mostly get caught in our
lies, and
- even if we don't, lying damages the relationship.
I once worked with a highly dysfunctional teen. She described the lying
process thusly: "I decided that I'd never tell my parents the truth. So, I
lie, and then I lie about lying, and I keep doing it until I can't remember the
lies, and then I get caught, and I cry and say I'll never do it again, which, of
course, is the first lie in the next series." And she said all of this
with a straight face and a slight smile.
If you've ever had the pleasure of watching the excellent videos of Ben &
Jock doing the Relationships weekend, you might remember, toward the end, that
they start a discussion of what they call "lines in the sand." A line
in the sand can be expressed: "If you do (insert behaviour) I'll leave
you."
Now, many people have not actually sat down and discussed their line(s) in the
sand. If they did, they'd likely discover that there are a ton of them, and
that
they are being dreamed up as the couple goes along. "If you look at another
(wo)man, I'll leave you." "If you yell at me one more time, I'll leave
you." I could keep going, but I'm sure you can do the job for me.
First of all, multiple, changing lines in the sand are stupid and immature.
They are the adult equivalent of the six-year-old having a fit, stamping his
feet and screaming, "I hate you! I'm running away from home!"
Secondly, if you are just threatening and don't leave when something happens,
you are lying. This makes the line in the sand an empty threat.
Anyway, the couples are tossing out examples of lines in the sand. Finally,
Ben says something like (I don't have the tapes anymore, so I can't get the
direct quote) "Our line in the sand is total honesty."
Dar and I looked at each other and said, "Wow! That's our line in
the sand!"
I realize, from my side of that idea, that I would tolerate one direct lie
from Dar, and would leave upon the second. I suspect that is also where Dar is
at, from what she has told me.
In 20 years, neither of us has used up the first lie.
I want to make clear that there is no game playing in this "no
lying" stance. There seems to be an "out" in the first sentence
of today's "rule," Always Tell the Truth, as You Know It. One
could argue that "I wasn't really lying. I just decided to tell part of it,
and now I'm telling more." This is a false assumption.
Whole life begins when we stop lying to ourselves. In a sense,
our "honesty policy" is not about the other person. I'm not choosing
to be honest for Dar's sake. I'm being honest for my sake.
A wrong-headed logic would be to decide to tell the truth out of a fear of
consequences. The decision to be honest comes from a place of integrity. People
who seem to be enlightened or wise are often described as persons of integrity.
I know lots of business people who would never cheat a client or on a
business deal, but rigorously cheat in their personal lives. Now, what I'm
saying here is not a condemnation of extra-marital affairs, for example. I have
no judgement at all about them. What I am saying is this. "Cheating is not
being scrupulously honest about what you are doing." It's not a
"cheating", nor lying, if I am
doing something and being totally honest with my partner about what I am doing.
Do you begin to see how integrity and being honest with myself fits into
this equation?
The reason we either lie, or don't tell our partner something (a lie by
omission) is because we fear the consequences of the behaviour we are lying
about. In other words, we are either doing something we have moral reservations
about, or we think or know our partner will have moral reservations about.
The integrity piece is this: why would I choose to engage in an activity I
haven't decided is, for me, at least morally neutral? And if I believe it to be
at least morally neutral, why am I afraid to talk about it? The only real
explanation is this: I'm feeling guilty.
"I don't owe anyone an explanation for my behaviour" is a cop out.
Integrity also means "the willingness to stand up for what I believe."
Honesty, total honesty, is about revealing to my partner who I am today. In
my own case, I want to let Dar know what's going through the minefield I call my
head. I choose to share with her my thoughts, emotions, desires and especially
what I choose to do. And my expectation is that she will do the same.
Here is where the "as you know it" part comes in. Sometimes, I
change my mind. I may decide to do 'x' one day, and then go do it, and decide
that the next time I'll do 'y.' As long as I'm keeping Dar totally in the loop, and
letting her know my thinking on the topic, I am being inconsistent (I suppose)
but certainly not lying. And if you think about it, the actual "truth"
of such a situation would be, "I'm thinking several things about this, am
not sure, and am trying out different behaviours, while keeping you
informed."
Finally, what's included in the "honesty" pact? Everything.
Anytime you might think to exclude something, don't. Tell each other
everything.
Now, quickly, to the second sentence. As I wrote last week, the goal of
honesty is elegant communication. So, how we say what we say is also relevant, and
totally under our control.
I don't remember what the disagreement was about, but one evening Dar and I
were on about something, and I remember, clearly, annoying the hell out of
myself. I remember thinking, "You know, I really am feeling cold and
distant from Dar (Haven-speak.)" I knew that I could say that, in those
words, and Dar would accept it as an honest statement of fact. Instead, my
perverse side said, "She's got the audacity to argue with you! Make her
hurt!" Now, knowing Dar for 20 years, I knew what to say. I looked her in
the eyes, put a bit of snarliness in my voice, and said, "You know, I feel
absolutely nothing for you right now."
My words had their intended effect. At least for a minute. Dar proceeded to
hurt herself over my words, then had her first Vesuvius. She then said,
"Nice try. I'm not going to continue to hurt myself over that."
Being honest, I said, "I made a decision to say that in a way you might
hurt yourself over. I was looking to hurt, not communicate."
With this kind of dialogue, our disagreements have been short-lived.
The second sentence calls us to think about the intention of our words. If my
intent is to blame or hurt, I want to be honest and say that. If my intent is to
communicate, I'll speak in a way that will facilitate the listener actually
hearing what I'm saying. Anything else is a game.
Honest communication and transparent honesty is the name of the game if I
choose to live my life with integrity.
Lying, cheating and manipulating are the
games
of an infantile loser.
You pick. You choose.
|