What’s Real


If I’ve learned anything so far as a blogger—and I’m wet behind the ears by any stretch of the imagination—it’s to be honest. And I don’t mean brutally honest; I mean openness of heart and spirit. Truth. Saying what’s real—being kind about it, but being honest.

My last blog post was about the end of a friendship. I was amazed and honored by the responses. Many shared similar stories.  Many simply thanked me for being real, for digging deeper. One friend asked if I was worried the subject of the post would read it. I had considered that but dismissed it because 1) I didn’t think she wanted to be in my life anymore so why would she read my blog and 2) I didn’t write it for her, I wrote it for me. Writing that piece, sorting through those feelings, was a healing process for me. I was able to remember and to store away the best of that friendship and to let go of the pain, jealousy and feelings of not being good enough it fueled. I was able to let go.

Systems, friendships, marriages, homes, governments, religions, they all need care and feeding. They need flexibility; they are organisms, they change. When they fall apart or begin to crack they need to be put back together, perhaps in different form, or they need to be put away. Maybe they don’t serve anymore. Maybe you, we, need something else.

Several days after I posted “Let It Be” the subject of the post sent me an email. Bottom line, we have drifted apart. For her, time and distance were the driving forces. What’s real is that I was honest. What’s real is that our friendship meant to her what it meant to me. It was real. It was true. I don’t expect a reincarnation of what we had. And I didn’t expect to hear from her; it was icing on the cake. (And by the way, icing is my favorite part.) The point is, had I not been true and real, we’d both be in our worlds with our safety and our stuff and none the wiser.

Our lives on this earth represent a shared experience and yet we spend so much time and energy filtering what we share. Being real gets you closer. It’s uncomfortable at times but it is worth it. Think about this mystical truth. We all breathe together. Take a deep breath and feel the rest of the earth breathe with you and know that we all share the same experience on this earth. No one experience is identical to another, but it is shared.

When I write a blog and comments come from near and far, from friends I haven’t connected with in years, or friends I thought of as mere acquaintances or friends I thought I’d lost, that mystical truth shouts from the rooftops. We all breathe together. And if we all go deeper together to share more with each other we all win. Don’t get me wrong. There’s a place to shoot the shit, to not talk about your feelings or how your father never showed affection. There’s a place to hang out, have a beer, watch “Entourage.” Yes. But, I don’t want to live there all the time. Where I live, I want to be real and honest. It’s frightening, but I’m going there. When I do, I get so much in return. We all walk around covered up, afraid to share and be real and to tell our truths. But the truth is we share even that. We are all afraid of not being good enough, of disappointing a friend, of losing a family member, of death, of not being loved. Let’s just admit it. Because you know what, when you are true, you heal. When you are honest, you’re free.

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