I am grateful for truth.
That may seem an obvious statement, a statement that at first glance should be deemed unnecessary but let me explain.
Sometimes at night I waken from a lovely deep sleep with a startling reminder of something I did as a youngster or as a young adult (and even some blunders at an age when I should have known better). In the “old days” I would sweat profusely, berate myself for being stupid and then I tried really really hard to shove said misstep to the dark recesses of my memory, until its next appearance.
What kind of blunders you might ask? Such a list, such a very long list. Well, let me see. There was climbing the cafeteria doors of my high school to fetch a tennis ball off the roof of the cafeteria, which involved scaling the History room windows to get to the cafeteria roof. What’s wrong with this you ask, aside of such a gaffe being against the rules?
Did I mention I was wearing a dress? A very short dress? Undoubtedly, everyone observing my display of madness and poor judgment knew the colour of my underwear.
Why? Why? I ask myself that question over and over and shake my head and wince and can come up with no other explanation other than my sheer stupidity.
Here’s where the truth thing comes in to play. I can tell you this embarrassing secret, I can admit I was an idiot at age fourteen, but now that “truth” has been attached to this tale I can laugh heartily at my lack of good sense and add my name along with all the others who used poor judgement between the ages of six and ninety.
We all have moments we would like to recover and press “edit” and delete it from the repertoire of our actions. Like the time I argued with my sister over having the pink tooth brush when I had already blurted out that I wanted the green one and she conceded and said she would have the pink one then. I knew it the moment the words came shrieking from my lips that I was behaving like a moron, but it was too late and like squeezing the toothpaste from the tube, there is no putting it back.
The only way to put things into a better place is to admit them, to laugh about it and accept that we are all human and if I am more human than you on any given day then so be it. The truth takes the power away from these events and even if we don’t share the stories with others we can still laugh about them with our private self. We can still shake our heads with a giggle and sigh and wonder how we actually survived being a teen-ager.
Life doesn’t come all packaged up neat and tidy; things get messy. But if we let the truth in, we can carry on with a much lighter load and our sleep won’t be disturbed quite so often.
So I welcome truth into my day and I’ll keep sorting through the list of things that waken me in the deep dark of night.