Autumn whispers in, dips her brush in the gold of the afternoon sun, and paints swaths of the bean field with its hue. From the field’s far corner, a single maple flashes crimson hints of things to come through air alive with cricket song and the distant cries of migrating geese heading south.
Sometimes, when I stop to look, the beauty that surrounds me is almost more I can bear. Take, for example, these wild asters, strewn in such abundance at the edges of the field that their very numbers make them seem commonplace. And yet, what subtle hues their tiny petals wear; how ornate their decorated centers, how perfect the choreography of their opening, one by one by one, until the entire pathway sings with their delicate song. Oh, again I say, please, let me never take such gifts for granted.
The air clears. The clouds thin. The light reappears. Suddenly the world is fresh again and glistening, and all you want to do is breathe it in until your own clouds dissolve, until you, too, are filled with light and joy, glistening with peace.
Well, here we are at the final, and in many ways, most fundamental choice that happy people universally make: the commitment to be truthful with themselves.
They’re truthful with others, too, of course. But happiness springs from their choice to be honest with themselves—about what they truly think, and feel, and need, and want, and value ,and believe.
It’s not as easy as it sounds. It takes courage and a willingness to look at the difference between what you’re pretending and what is genuinely real for you.
Think about an area of your life where you’re experiencing some difficulty. Then try this exercise: Say to yourself, “I’m pretending that . . .” and describe how you’re not being authentic. Then say, “But the truth is . . .” and see if you can dig down to a new clarity.
We fall into pretending for a lot of reasons. We buy into our stories or the stories our family or culture tells.
We obey programmed “shoulds.” We give in to fears of embarrassment, shame, disapproval, rejection and judgment.
We assume that in order to be a good person we have to put the needs of disadvantaged others above our own.
We tell ourselves that we’re being kind or gracious by holding back on our own desires. In reality, when we’re truthful about our own needs and desires, we empower others to be truthful, too, and that gives us a greater chance for meeting everyone’s needs.
Even difficult truths can be spoken with tact and consideration. And even when we don’t say them perfectly, we’re affirming the importance of honesty in our relationships when we try.
Honesty, especially with yourself, is the bedrock foundation of happiness, and the only path to genuine intimacy with others. It’s the quality that provides you with the third “C” of happiness—centeredness—because the voice at your center is the voice of your truth.
You can’t know who you really are without listening for that truth. Self-honesty is the very core of authenticity.
Lack of honesty leads to tension, distancing from others, lack of motivation, burnout, fatigue, even illness.
Without truth, trust can’t exist. You can’t rely on your own judgment when you’re not honest with yourself about what you value, what you feel and think, what matters to you. And others can’t rely on you either.
But know what’s true for you and you become a pillar of strength and trustworthiness both to yourself and others. You know where you stand, and so does everyone else. You can be counted on; you’re reliable.
Honesty is highly attractive to others. More than that, you’ll feel an inner harmony that nothing but the truth can give you.
We grow as we experience life, of course, and our truths can evolve or change over time.
Happy people learn to pay continuous attention to their inner sense of truth to find new layers and new dimensions of it. What do I really believe? What do I genuinely want? What do I need? How do I really feel? Am I pretending?
These are the questions they ask, fearlessly listening for the answers, following truth’s light, and shining that light into the world.
Next week, we’ll put all nine choices for happiness together and see how they work as a synergistic whole.
Until then, I wish you fresh winds of honesty and a fascinating week.
Somewhere in the world bright flowers are blooming. Somewhere, the sun is shining down. Lovers are embracing somewhere; children are dreaming in their mother’s arms. Somewhere, great music is playing and songs are being sung. Someone is climbing a mountain, someone is offering prayer. Somewhere friends break bread and weave warm memories. Somewhere, butterflies float and colored birds take wing. Somewhere stars are glittering in a velvet sky. And everywhere, always, the Great Yes unfolds in waves of limitless love.
The subtlety is gone now. Color sweeps in at a dizzying speed, its thrust building by the hour. Leaf, bough, and tree suddenly don their scarlets and golds. Autumn knows. The joy is in the momentum.
As if September wished to hold the sun as its hours of light dwindle, it fills our fields and roadsides with living, glowing gold, a feast of color for our eyes and of pollen for the bees. Its sole mission is to nourish, and so deep into the sunset, its burnished gold continues to glow and its song of Yes to rise.
You can’t go from emerald to crimson overnight. No great work happens in the blink of an eye. First you need a vision: Let us paint these woods in autumn hues. Then you may begin. And once you have begun, you must keep on. A swath of red here, a bit of gold there, some orange, a touch of yellow. Keep on. Hour by hour, trusting, singing work’s joy, knowing your vision was born in the Yes and that the Yes will guide your hand, unfailingly.