All lies and jest…

“All lies and jest,

Still, a man hears what he wants to hear,

And disregards the rest.” – The Boxer

One of my favourite lines from one of the greatest folk duos of all time. I grew up listening to Simon & Garfunkel.  Their songs feel as familiar to me as my own freckled skin. Their voices swim through the dots, cloaking me in comfort.

This lyric is a powerful one. I don’t think any line of any song could ring more true. I am back living in Morocco and I’ve experienced in just a few weeks the everyday lies that echo throughout the speech of the majority of men I’ve come into contact with here. Lies are an acceptable part of life.

I giggle to myself when I remember the words of two of my male Moroccan friends who told me in my first days here:

“Never trust a Moroccan man.”

In my travels I’ve met many people from a cross section of cultures and ages who accept that lying to their families or parents is the only way they will have some peace within these relationships. They are not prepared to speak their truth.

There are a multitude of reasons people lie of course, some of them are known, but mostly they sit in the depths of subconscious fear. Here are just some of the possible reasons, which I believe can ring true for many in some form or another. These reasons could be: afraid of being rejected in some way (no longer accepted as part of the family; disowned; or no longer loved); being judged as someone who has a mental disability; afraid of no longer being apart of a family or community (we all need these deep connections and to feel apart of a community); afraid of being alone; afraid of no longer being accepted by those closest to us; afraid of dying alone; afraid of living alone; afraid of not being loved; afraid of not being good enough to be apart of their family; afraid of being rejected by god; not wanting to potentially show that you reject your friends or family for their choices or way of life; fear of having to explain yourself to people who you don’t think will understand you; the list continues.

When I think of lying in this light, lying is a shield. A safety shield. This shield comes in many shapes and sizes, is thicker for some, others it is a thin bubble bouncing off invisible arrows of rejection and pain. It makes sense to me then why people all over the world will choose lying over speaking their truth.

The need for approval or to fit into a community is so strong that people will choose to go against themselves, their needs, their desires, their path.

Why do I say this? Because in lying you can never feel free to be who you really are. I believe that we all want to feel free to be who we are, express ourselves and be accepted for who we are. With warts. And maybe the occasional pink and purple pocodot long johns we feel like wearing at midday, in the supermarket. Ok, maybe not all of us feel this way, but simply to feel comfortable to express and be who were are in most spaces we live.

Lying is such an interesting beast. On one hand you think it can bring you more peace as it gives you a warm, hairy hug. You rest your head against his chest, and close your eyes. But you realise that you can’t close your eyes for too long, because soon the beast will need to hunt. And you could be his prey. He could consume you in a few minutes, and the beast becomes you and you become the beast. You are no longer you.

But when you rest against the beast and then turn to look into it’s heart, you notice something. You see it’s hunger, it’s pain, it’s need for fulfillment and connection, you develop compassion for the beast. That part of you that is the beast. That part of you that wants to be loved and accepted, claws and all.

I know that’s what I want in my life. To be loved and accepted for exactly who I am. I think I will get this acceptance sometimes with people if I lie. Because I have lied. Or I have omitted parts of my story to be accepted by those I’ve interacted with. Sometimes I think ‘they are not ready to hear that’, or ‘all of my story is so far out of their realm of thinking and thoughts’ (my judgement of them limits them in this instance and also does not allow for the potentially deeper connections I could make with people), or ‘if they knew of me and my story they wouldn’t continue talking with me’ (again I continue to suffer the fear of rejection).

So really I’m no different to the Moroccan men I’ve had interactions with here. Really? Did I just write that. Yes, I think I just did. And yes there is truth in that. Some of my truth and some of their truth. The truth of lies. Or more accurately, the truth of fear.

I know I feel more connected, more lighter, more at one with another person and myself when I can be completely me and utterly speak my truth, my fears, my warts. I would like to feel this way with everyone I meet. It feels good to be completely me, all of the time. To not feel afraid of rejection.

I think we’ll create more open, accepting societies and communities when we begin to speak our truths to others more frequently. And, more importantly, when we stop rejecting others (and in turn ourselves) when we hear their truths and lies. And lies? Yes, and lies.

We can question the other and ourselves with love when we hear or speak a lie, but not reject the person, and I am particularly concerned about those closest to us. Letting people know that we are not rejecting them, because we ourselves do not want to be rejected and we know that fear – we all have it in some form or another (and if you believe you don’t, spend some hours with yourself really getting honest with you and question your motivations when you lie – it will always come down to a fear of rejection in some form or another – use the examples I listed above and feel which one/s resonate with you).

Here are some suggestions in working with the beast called ‘lie’:

1. When you feel the need to lie, stop. Ask yourself why you are lying. What are you afraid of? (see the above list as a starting point for your discovery of your fears)
2. Will lying help you feel immediate peace? Will lying help you achieve long term peace?
3. Ask yourself if that fear is a greater priority for you to escape the feeling right now (eg of rejection, hurt, being alone), or is feeling fully connected and complete a greater priority for you right now (do not judge yourself either way).
4. Ask yourself is there a different way to approach this situation? Can you talk with a friend or therapist to help you navigate through the issue?

When someone lies to you:

1. Try to understand their motivations for lying. Are their potential fears similar to the ones you’ve had in your life?
2. What would you want to be told if you were in their situation?
3. Is there a way to question without being accusatory? (and in the instance of wanting to lash out at the other, what are you afraid of? If you are reacting from any sort of strong emotion, you are afraid of something too. For example, you could be afraid of loosing the relationship, afraid of not being cared for or even deeper afraid of dying alone. This is for you to have a quiet investigation with yourself or with the help of a therapist).
4. What decisions can you now make based on the information you have been told and what works for you in your life?

Let me know what you think about lying? What is your secret fear when you lie?

What techniques have you used to feel comfortable in speaking your truth?

PS. The second line of the Boxer: ‘Still, A man hears what he wants to hear, And disregards the rest’ is just so fascinating to me that is deserves it’s own full blog post, next week. Stay tuned.