Boodaism
The scariest thing in my world is knowing that I always have direct access to pure, unfiltered truth.
This isn’t a claim of me being special, or better than anyone, it’s just my experience of life. At any time, any place, I have access to something so true is cuts like the sharpest knife.
I’m writing this now because I realize how afraid I’ve been of this my whole life. At times it’s felt like a blessing, other times it’s felt like an enormous burden. For my whole life, I’ve had access to what’s real, but I constantly doubt that other people could handle it. I believe everyone has their way of being “too much” and this is mine.
My truth is too much.
I suffer the most when I resist this truth. The voice is often so clear and so real that resisting it is immensely painful. It’s even embarrassing at times. It’s like being with a friend who is always right and constantly looking stupid in this face of their wisdom.
Every time I don’t listen, that friend is there telling me what’s real, what’s true. Every time I ignore that truth, that same voice will remind me, and remind me, and remind me. I can never escape it.
It’s like having a super-power where I can see the future, but I can’t un-see it either. If we could truly see the future, would we really want to? I believe that after a while it would get frustrating, and there would be times we wish we could just know less, have less perceptive and just kick back and relax.
Why don’t I just surrender and let truth move through me? I suppose that’s the goal, but truth doesn’t seem to care so much about my humanness. Sometimes it’s what I want to hear, but many times it’s the last thing I want to hear.
Truth was what had me feel like a loner in high school, because I wasn’t willing to give up parts of who I am to please others.
Truth is why I couldn’t accept the answer “that’s the way it’s always done” when I served as a Navy Officer.
Truth reminds me of a line from Cloud Atlas when Halle Berry’s character says to Tom Hanks’ character, “you’re gonna have to do what you can’t not do”.
That’s often what truth feels like to me, it’s the bad news I don’t want to hear. I didn’t choose it, I didn’t ask for it, yet I undeniably have it.
And yet there will always be a part of me that often resists this truth. That part of me isn’t wrong, and when it puts up a fight it does so for good reason. Some people call it their heart, and it seems to occur that way for me (the terms are made up anyway).
That’s why I always cringe when people when they say live from their heart. My heart is the thing that cares deeply about people, it’s what bonds me to them, it’s what has me form attachments, it’s what makes life worth living.
And yet my truth is wiser than my heart.
My heart wants to keep everybody safe, my truth wants to do what’s right.
My heart wants to hang on, my truth wants to let go.
My heart wants to be safe, my truth wants to evolve.
My heart wants everyone to be happy, my truth wants everyone to be free.
My heart is what makes life worth living.
My truth is worth my life.
