2021

 At the beginning of each month my husband, Jeff, and I choose a theme or habit that we wish to focus on for the next thirty days. Embracing a ‘beginner’s mind’ helps us to generate fresh energy and goals. If the aspiration fails, at least we have a good laugh at ourselves. The theme can be individual or shared and be something simple (no cussing) or something harder (no Amazon deliveries for a month.) It can be a new skill, such as learning to juggle, or it can be more self-care oriented, like a daily yoga practice. On a recent month I, Miss Girl Scout, chose ‘no lying’ and my Cookie Monster chose ‘no sugar’. I consider myself to be an ethically transparent person, so I felt pretty confident that my challenge would be a slam dunk, while I openly worried about how Jeff and his baked goods obsession would fare.  

My ‘no lying’ idea came from listening to a podcast featuring the sociologist Martha Beck, PhD. I was immediately intrigued by her comment that she hadn’t told a lie in five years. She said it started as a New Year’s resolution­­—no lying for one year—and it so transformed her life that she has lived in conscious integrity since. For me, Integrity is my number one core value so I figured a month of awareness around it would provide a good tune up as my life began to reemerge from deep Covid.

I wanted to know more about Beck’s truth-telling process, and I found her book The Way of Integrity to be a fascinating read. Inspired by The Divine Comedy, Beck guides her readers through Dante’s circles of hell as they parallel the story of her journey to wellness and authenticity through truth. For my part, I kept a daily journal of my ‘lie activity’ and named it ‘The Pinocchio Project’.

The first day was a piece of cake—it consisted of me emailing my gym to request that they please send me only one confirmation notice of my appointment via text OR email, but not both. I’d be lying if I said it was not annoying to receive two notices. Boom! The truth had already set me free.

While this sounds like a very mundane act, I’m going to argue otherwise. It is not. What I noticed over thirty days of observation is that there are hundreds of these micro-irritants that compound daily in our lives—things that are easier to simply brush past but do, in fact, form a cloud of soul-sucking stress around us. When that irritation hits the tipping point and blows, the resulting hissy-fit (or depression) is bewildering to everyone. It’s a slow erosion of our spirit when we are constantly bombarded by mindless minutia that is unbalanced by any true connection.

My lie-free month forced me to pay attention to my strengths and weaknesses, specifically my twin powers of curiosity and self-righteousness. On day two I ordered a decaf Americano latte (is that even a thing?) at my beloved bakery. For years I have felt a little ripped off by how little coffee is actually in my $6.05 cup, but I always seem to return for more disappointment. I grumble, store the agitation, and move on. On this particular Covid day, I was just plain grateful that I could even go into a place and order such a treat. That is, until I removed the lid and saw very little foam and a half full cup. Ugh—a simple grumble was not going to cut it this month because pretending that I wasn’t perturbed would be a lazy lie to myself.

While Jeff waited patiently in the car (with no cookie), I returned to the Barista and asked (with curiosity, not indignation) about my coffee. She was kind and patient and showed me her equipment and shot measures and explained that it’s very difficult to match espresso equipment to standard paper cup volumes, and that I had indeed received four shots and the foam, as advertised.

Well, alrighty then. My irritation vanished, I learned something useful, and I made a new friend at the bakery. Being curious and learning the facts (the truth) had taught me a fresh point of view, diffused disappointment, and ultimately created endorphin goodness in the form of appreciation for the Barista, and a high for myself. All this from a simple exchange. If I had allowed myself to lazy-lie, I would have missed my moment of enlightenment. We need to notice these small lie infractions: they are both valuable clues and dangerous warnings because they are part of a chronic pattern of toxic behavior. Lying is a way to stay emotionally unavailable, create drama, or play the victim. Once again, the truth had set me free.

I was learning quickly that while I don’t tell lies, per se, I do not always tell the truth. It’s the flip side of the same smooth snake. One feature of Covid restrictions and lockdown is that we did not need white lies to manage our social schedules, and so we became more realigned with our own natural sense of integrity. Do you remember how that felt? What a relief it was not to have to dodge, deflect, or even explain?

My awareness around lying began to accelerate quickly, and the next day shocked me. I did not anticipate this, but I had to confess to my sweet Mom that I just didn’t feel like celebrating a particular holiday. I was sick of Covid, my kids were not around to perk things up, and I just wasn’t feeling it. This was an opportunity to not lie about my feeling of apathy, and to choose something truer for myself: a safe bike ride in the sunshine. I learned that the truth is never the enemy, it’s the fear of the truth. We are not always honest because we think people in our lives can’t handle the truth, so it’s easier to hide parts of ourselves, but this is just not so. It’s an arrogance on our part to anticipate this; we need to trust our people more, or find new people. And witness the truth I did: my Mom was totally cool with my ‘confession’. It was simply not the big deal I had fabricated in my mind.

 The truth is we only need to be accountable to ourselves. By setting clearer, more honest boundaries we can let go of the subterfuge of complex social niceties and lie a lot less. Nedra Glover Tawwab, MSW wrote a book Set Boundaries, Find Peace that provides excellent applicable guidelines in this realm. State your needs honestly. People won’t always like it, but they will respect you for it, and they will trust you more genuinely going forward. The best part? YOU will trust yourself more to make better and better decisions. It’s a practice.

 After a couple of weeks journaling about lying, I realized a huge truth: while I don’t so much as lie, I am a world class people pleaser which takes me out of integrity just as fast as a lie. I never really noticed this about myself, but I often defer to someone else’s wishes before I even ask myself what I would prefer. Most evenings Jeff and I watch a program in our room and then read. One night, after our Ted Lasso fix, he said ‘Do you mind if I watch this Formula One show?’ to which I immediately responded ‘Sure, that’s fine.’ What I neglected to take into account, was that I just can’t read if the TV is on no matter how low the sound. I tried to tuck in with my book, but I lasted only two pages.

Instead of speaking up and diverting Jeff to his iPad and earphones for his program, I unconsciously chose a lower energy and started surfing the web for summer blankets. It was fun, but it was most certainly not in my highest good. This is a tiny example of the many times I have unconsciously gypped myself because I have not even bothered to check in to see how I truly felt. ‘What do I need right now? What would I like?’ are twin wings I have grown during the Pinocchio Project.

 When we calculate these micro-concessions over a period of decades, the tab is costly to our growth. While it didn’t seem at all like a big deal, and I didn’t technically lie, I did something even more egregious: I cheated on myself by not speaking my truth. I could have easily said ‘Sweetie, this is my reading time. Can you use your iPad?’ Lying is a habit we don’t even know we have.

 Telling the truth creates a very efficient filter. Because I tend to see the best in people—yes, call me Pollyanna—I can fall out of ‘integrity alignment’ with regard to extending too much benefit of the doubt. Read: oblivious to signals from others. If someone routinely breaks a date with me—Hello?!—they don’t value the relationship as much as I do. If things don’t feel reciprocal and kind, if there is no give and take, if I feel bullied, bored, or issues can’t be talked out, then these are not healthy dynamics. It’s time to stop lying about it and clear it up (or clear it out.)

I’m a conflict-averse person. Before the Pinocchio Project my typical MO was to let things slide or even hide, but this month presented me with several ‘opportunities’ where I was forced to practice the truth telling. To help me along I used a tool from the work of Viktor Frankl: the idea of stimulus-space-response. Learning to take a powerful pause before responding to a stimulus buys me the time I need for better choice making. That pause can be a minute, twenty-four hours—or however long I need. During awkward truth-telling situations I couldn’t run away or pretend it wasn’t happening. As a result, the more I stood in my truth, the more resilient I became. I was able to stay calmer and work through an issue or have a discussion at a slower, more thoughtful pace. This was a maturing experience for me.

Typically, I am a warp-speed fixer so having to sit within this calmer energy felt at first like a special kind of hell. But the more I did it the more I could do it, and the less I felt I had to fudge it, fix it, or F—it. Again, being curious and asking clarifying questions buys time and space to stay aligned with truth. I’ve lost my taste for quick fixes. Now, I can wait for what I want, and I don’t feel pressure to choose or speak until I’m ready. The more I stay in my truth, the more patient and relaxed I become, it’s a self-perpetuating cycle of calm. This leaning into the truth? It’s real.

 Let me note that there a world of difference between not telling a lie and being brutally honest. There is a world of difference between constructive feedback and caustic criticism. We can speak our truth and remain open, kind, and considerate. To paraphrase the writer Anne Lamott:

‘You can point with the sword of truth, you don’t have to stab with it.’

When I was confronted with a situation in which I was being treated very rudely by someone (which I had allowed to happen multiple times in the past—my bad) I could finally see this person for who she is: a bully. I had never seen it clearly before—until I couldn’t lie to myself. We spend too much of our precious energy covering up for others toxic behavior in work, family, and social situations. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not saying that people are either good or bad, but the truth is, some people are bad for me.

During Covid, and this month in particular, some friendships were savored and strengthened, others were allowed to die the dignified death they had long deserved. Because of the many times I was too chicken to speak the truth, even to myself, I have caused harm—and for that I take full responsibility and feel deep remorse. Not telling the truth is ultimately way more damaging than speaking up—we must all be courageous.

 I now know the value and the power of meeting unpleasant situations up front. My former habit of numbing or avoiding conflict would sink me into a slow-burn of resentment, or even a mild depression. Since I can no longer be a liar, I have to say some truths out loud: ‘I don’t like it when you stand me up, bully me, or ignore me.’ As a result, I got several hard things resolved. And you know what? Not only did the truth set me free, my nose grew shorter—kidding! 

Don’t lie to yourself about your desires. If you are hungry, eat. If you are tired, rest. If you are frustrated dig deeper to discover the real ‘why’. If you are sad, say so. We won’t fall out of integrity by being helpful, kind, or courteous, as long as we are doing these things by our conscious choice. When we override our instincts with too much social and cultural conformity, we teach ourselves to distrust our gut judgments. When I am disingenuous everyone loses. I feel more confident standing in my truth now, so I don’t prevaricate as much. I am moving forward with more peace in my heart.

The more I am in alignment with my truth—my thoughts, my feelings, and my desires, the calmer and happier I feel. I feel more generous and I can say the beautiful truths aloud easier, too. ‘I love your painting, your smile, your attitude—whatever is resonating and deserves to be shared aloud. When I am in this place of peace, when the Universal GPS can find me ‘at home’, then it delivers my true intentions and dreams to me with much more grace and speed.

 October is here. I am going to chose ‘no lying’ as a refresher theme this month—what does this month hold for you? Rabbit. Rabbit.

 I’d love to hear from you—feel free to send your comments to me!