from Horton Hatches the Egg
by Theodore Geisel writing as Dr. Seuss
When I was young, but old enough to know a few things about telling the truth, I developed a small bump on the tip of my tongue. My mom told me how I got it. "It comes from telling a lie," she said with such conviction that I believed her for many, many years.
I don't know why I occasionally developed those bunps. I haven't had one in decades! I know (think) now that it was some cosmic coincidence.
Lying is my default to avoid hurting someone's feelings. I fight it by looking for balance between truth and kindness..
Lying is sometimes easier than telling the truth, like when I want someone to think I'm smarter about a subject: movie stars, popular music or fashion, than I really am. A little face-saving device I put on. Like nodding in agreement when I don't know what I'm agreeing about. I can always look up someone or some thing when I get home. Sometimes I do.
I don't think there is ever a good reason for a whopper, though. Those always lead to trouble. Speaking practically, it is usually easier to tell the truth, in a way. At least I don't have a whole bunch of stories I need to keep track of. But it takes courage to admit it when I am wrong. It is an act of bravery to tell someone how I really feel. Stakes are high whether my feelings are good or whether they are bad. I'm working on it.
Lies and truth matter--to my relationships with other people, to my relationship with myself and to my relationship with the world.
Horton found out that truth reaps great rewards!