I wonder what it would be like to be absolutely honest with everyone in all situations, all the time. How much different would the words be that come out of my mouth? How much do I filter myself in daily conversation? I certainly have relationships where I wouldn’t dare say how I really feel. Would I be fired? Would I lose all my friends? Would I gain respect or instill fear?
In general, I consider myself an honest person. I try my hardest to speak and act from a place that is true for me. Sometimes I trick myself into saying things that in retrospect, may not have been entirely true, but I do my best. I think that possibly, I may have some long term, important relationships with strands of unspoken truth that perhaps I could be more direct and forward about, but I don’t, cause I’m a chicken.
I’m a diplomatic person. I like to be the person who breaks up the fight, the one that helps others see the angle of the other, so everyone can just get along. I like when everyone is getting along. I especially like it when everyone is getting along with me. I think that maybe sometimes I allow some things to go unspoken in order to maintain a sense of civil order, peaceful politeness. Once in a while, someone will take advantage of this tendency in me, and before I know it, they’ve gone too far and hurt my feelings. This doesn’t happen very often, thank goodness.
What is it to be honest? Some people I know (I won’t name names, of course) are directly honest all the time. I love these people the best, the ones who don’t seem to be overly concerned with the waves they’ll cause by saying exactly how it is. Even when I’m the one to face the oncoming tsunami, I’m proud to stand strong and take the truth, cause I can take it. I worry about other people, though. I worry about their defensiveness, blindness, resistance, and especially their temper.
Yesterday, Agent and I were lazily riding the bus from St. Johns back to our neck of the woods. There was only one other person on the bus, and everything seemed to be right with the world. Agent moved twice to find the right seat with the right breeze in her face, and the bus driver began to glare at us.
“What?” Agent said, loud enough for the driver to hear.
He answered in a difficult to understand explanation of the dangers of “wandering around the bus.” I saw Agent beginning to feel angry with the situation. She calmed quickly, and we went back to enjoying our ride.
A few kids were waiting at a bus stop at a busy intersection near Fred Meyer. Our bus driver braked a little and made like he was going to stop, but he didn’t. They yelled and waved at him while he drove by, but he was unfazed. Agent and I started yelling, too, but couldn’t get through to him either. The bus had to stop at a red light and one of the kids ran up to the door and begged the driver to open the door. The look on his face, of total disappointment and desperation, broke my little heart.
In a situation like this, when a person is so obviously wrong, I will speak up and even shout out against the injustice. I can yell at the top of my lungs when someone is not treated with the respect that every single person deserves.
Photo by iamalwayshonest
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