To Tell the Truth

I was recently asked if I worry that the things that I write and send out into the world might adversely affect my future. I suppose namely that question was aimed at what some might call the confessional nature of my writing. I've spent a number of hours in the last few weeks thinking about this and I've decided that I would be remiss to not respond in writing to a question about writing itself. The answer to this is brief. No, I absolutely do not worry about the content of my writing railroading my future endeavors. My position on this matter is quite the opposite.

Here’s the thing- I am addicted to the truth. Particularly over the last few years, I've learned that the most important aspect of anything that is pure and of value is that it not be hidden, nor censored, nor manipulated to avoid any waves that it might cause when presented to the world. I've come to a place in my life in which I can NOT avoid being open and honest about my experience in the world, whether or not that honesty makes people uncomfortable. It isn't my aim to cause discomfort. I don’t write about my life or my perspective on events that affect my life in order to shock, or shame, or embarrass anyone. I just have to tell the truth. And it’s usually the times when I’m most hesitant or afraid to be honest that my inevitable honesty is the most cherished. I was terrified years ago to write about dancing naked because I knew the general perception of exotic dancers, and how that might be applied to me as a human being. But when I embraced that no one else could tell this story, my own particular brand of truth, I was in turn embraced by a loving [if somewhat limited] audience.

So too could be said about my openness about the way in which I was quietly excused from my teaching job. Perhaps if I just kept quiet, pretended I was granted a surprise, unpaid sabbatical, then I might have a wider range of teaching prospects in the future. But the blog I wrote about that experience got more hits in 72 hours than all of my previous blog entries combined. Silence may have saved me a spot to teach at the same institution next semester, but how can my constant quest for truth through the written word be honored in my staying silent? Is it better to take my licks and keep quiet about it, or should I use experience to shed light on something in the world that I think is extraordinarily fucked up? I’m willing to sacrifice poverty wages for a moment of telling a truth that might resonate with people. And I guess that’s what makes me a writer.

 There’s an Arab proverb that goes something like this: When the king puts the poet on his payroll, he cuts off the tongue of the poet. I've been thinking about this as it applies to me, to all of us. Let the king be anyone, any institution, any powerful aspect that sets itself in opposition to the people. I’d rather be a broke poet in the trenches than a writer who never tells the truth because I’m afraid. Writers, artists of any kind, have to tell the truth. It is not my job to give the world, be that my limited audience or a king, what it wants. I will tell you the truth I need to tell you, always, because you need it.

And I think in a broader sense, this may be what is wrong with us. And by us, I mean all of us individual humans walking the planet. I think somewhere along the line we've become afraid of the truth, both telling it and receiving it. And it’s what keeps us separated from each other, and separated from positions of power, and in constant opposition.

This might be wisdom: It is important to be open to knowledge. In order to know, it is important for someone to be willing to tell the truth. And in order to tell the truth, it is important to live a life unafraid of what discomfort the truth might inspire. Ultimately, my truth-telling has created much more harmony in the world than the collected concealment and certain downright lies I've told over a lifetime.

It is much easier to connect to people when you’re honest with them, and honest with yourself. Since my addiction to truth took vigorous hold of my life, the writing that has come out of that period has reverberated much broader and farther than when I was afraid to tell the truth, to places and people I never may have reached otherwise. But I think this is applicable to everyone, not just writers. I dare you to refuse to be afraid of the truth, because I've learned that as soon as you stop being afraid of the truth, you stop being afraid of everything, and then you are liberated.