Telling it like it is in 2009

I've never been much for New Year's resolutions. I figure I'm just as equipped to change my life in August or the middle of February as I am when the clock strikes midnight on December 31st. I respect the concept, I guess: a commitment to self-improvement, to happiness, to anything in this perennially disatisfied culture of dispensable ideas, contradictory "research" studies and fleeting fads of everything from dieting to parenting. It just so happens that this New Year falls a month after my 25th birthday, marks the year anniversary of my (humble) move back to my hometown, and occurs in the midst of a slough of weddings and engagements involving my peers from childhood, high school, and college. It appears that 2009 is going to be a big one, and I'm resolving to do it up right.

Somewhere between my college graduation and the quarter century mark, I started thinking about honesty and direct communication; about how often we say and do things that serve the tenets of social obligation and propriety, rather than ourselves and the people around us. A two and a half year meditation on how we generate and reenforce normative behaviors that discourage authenticity and openness has culminated in this: I'm telling it like it is in 2009.

The breaking point came as a result of the unique series of events leading into (and just past) the new year. Namely, the social interaction that results from holiday season engagements and hometown gatherings, not to mention the wedding of a close childhood friend that officially gave birth to this blog last weekend. Long story short? The holidays were filled with conversations among people I know, love, vaguely remember, etc. marked by exaggerations, mitigations and outright fabrications. (read: people lying to other people because they know they can get away with it and feel better about their version of the truth than the reality of it). It really didn't bother me at first. Years of studying yoga and critical theory have made me more tolerant of the way people communicate in social space. I'm either at peace with it because it has nothing to do with me (yoga) or able to appreciate the context that has produced it(that's the critical theory part). Either way, I typically assume that much like my precious high school students, the adults in my life are just trying to tell the world(and likely themselves), "Hey, I'm happy."

I only started to question this phenomenon when I realized that the exchanges I was witnessing/experiencing were not occassional or isolated, but pervasive, almost universal. It became more shocking to hear something honest, than to listen to someone explain an unneccessary perversion of the truth. Perhaps even more telling is that I found myself (a dedicated ambassador of honesty no matter what the social/emotional consequence) conforming to this bogus ritual. And for what? to save face? to convey to a relative, friend or near-stranger that my life was full of the self-satisfaction and success that theirs was lacking? to convince myself that what I am doing with my life is fulfilling and meaningful, not to mention exciting, rewarding and lucrative? The truth is, I can't pin down a singular motivation. I imagine that it's some combination of a national culture that keeps us in a perpetual state of desire and insecurity (mainly so we spend more money trying to feel better) and the local culture in which I grew up, where young people start comparing eachother's development and accomplishments as soon as they know how to talk.

Whatever the reason, I'm on a one-woman crusade to stop the rhetoric, and get down to business, with the truth. Why? because I see both intrinsic and functional value in creating spaces for open dialogue that encourage the uncensored sharing of wisdom and ideas. Not only that, I've learned that happiness is derived from unconditional acceptance of who and where we are at any given moment. If we're constantly expending energy creating self-delusions and generating false images, we certainly can't find contentment and peace with what is, as it is, no matter what it is, right?

The more I thought about it, the more places in my life I could see the benefits of straight talking. How many dating disasters could have been mitigated or averted if the two (or more) people involved had chosen to be honest and forthcoming instead of playing by some imaginary rules of a made-up game? How many sets of roommates, friends and partners have endured epic confrontations after repeated conversations dictated by what the other person "wanted to hear." How much less anxiety would we feel talking to other people in public if we knew we both had the same expectation: the truth. Think of all the blissful relief that would come from simply getting "it" off of our chests. Count the number of times a day you have to lie about how you're "doing" or feeling and then imagine the kind of serenity that might wash over you each time you could openly respond: "awful," "fantastic," "frustrated", "anxious", "ecstatic." etc.

One of the occupational drawbacks of working with high school kids is having to come face to face everyday with so many destructive social norms and communication patterns that persist into our adult lives. More often than not, the drama, angst and conflict of (middle class white) teenagers is brought on by some form of indirect/mis communication. Without the distractions and responsibilties of being a grown-up, high school students become obsessed with and possessed by the details and consequences of these situations. While it may not be as dramatic or consuming for those of us on the backside of our adolescence, the absence of open communication can be insidious and stifling just the same. Of course, since we've all been side-stepping, sugar-coating and otherwise diluting the truth since before we were teenagers, we have set up an entire system of expectation and fulfillment that discourages direct communication.

So I'm making a commitment I feel like I can keep: To tell the truth (unabashedly) in all of the circumstances in my life that don't involve 1) my career or 2)the fragile egos of my tortured high school students (who mostly just need a little bit of validation and a compassionate shoulder to cry on). I consider this resolution to be one of on-going potential for karmic change. I hope to encourage honesty by spreading it, and to recieve direct communication through delivering it. If nothing else, it seems like a powerful way to more accurately reflect the values I believe in, and an excellent way to frame the remainder of the year ahead.