On lies and love

The whole thing is built on lies, including lying about the lies that justify the lies that prop up the lies. The degree to which it can function the way it does, is the degree to which we can keep lying to ourselves and each other.

The first lie may have been that we were separate from the dove or the serpent, and the second lie may have been that Eve was the problem. But the third lie, the lie that provides so much cover for the rest of the lies, is that it doesn’t hurt, that it’s not as bad as you think it is, that there is no reason to cry so hard.

I don’t know the way out, but I do know we go there together. And I know that the more we are capable of listening to each other talk about how much it hurts and not needing to look away, the more of that pain we can acknowledge together, the less need we have for the lies that allow us to function.

That pain is so sacred and life-giving, because it is real, and it cuts through any lie. It is not pain that pulls towards the narrative of good versus evil, and us versus them, which scarily seems to be prominent everywhere these days. It is pain that comes also with the recognition of connection, and gratefulness for all the ways that people try so hard to be kind.

And the less need we have for the lies, the more we can notice that the world we were told could not exist is already here and has always been here. Just waiting for us to stop lying about it long enough to see it. And it’s really really beautiful. So much kindness, despite all odds.

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Thank you for sitting with me while I told you how much it hurt. I have never spoken plainly about what we mean when we say that boys pick on each other, not even to myself. Or how incredibly sad it is when you start to watch the soft tender places turn so hard.

As bell hooks wrote (one of those books that let me know that someone, somewhere, understood)

“The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence toward women. Instead patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation, that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves. If an individual is not successful in emotionally crippling himself, he can count on patriarchal men to enact rituals of power that will assault his self-esteem.”

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This weekend was profoundly unexpected for me, I am raw, and I am woozy, but I have a little less need for the lies, and it happened because I heard a woman dare to speak about the laughter of two boys. It happened when I realized we had heard the same laughter, and we have heard it every day since. I know exactly the way that laughter sounds, and I also know how sweet it is. One moment of someone daring to speak of that laughter and the lies are undone for a little bit longer.

Thank you for speaking the truth of your pain. Thank you for being willing to let the mask slip.

“Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.” (James Baldwin)