I realize that I have been abusing my posting priviledges today, but my mind has been in a whirl, while at the same time work has been delightfully dull.
A friend said "tell me something true", and to my dismay I could hardly come close to confessing something profound.
For some time now I have avoided truth in its every form-
pushing it to the back of my mind in order to fight the overwhelming aspect of fear and ambiguity that the truth often entails.
I feel as if I could write so much more about this...but I'll pause and let Walt Whitman do a little bit of the talking...
O ME, man of slack faith so long!
Standing aloof—denying portions so long;
Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth;
Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none, but grows as
inevitably
upon
itself as the truth does upon itself,
Or as any law of the earth, or any natural production of the earth does.
(This is curious, and may not be realized immediately—But it must be realized;
I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,
And that the universe does.)
Where has fail’d a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth?
Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man? or in the meat and
blood?
Meditating among liars, and retreating sternly into myself, I see that there are really no
liars or
lies after all,
And that nothing fails its perfect return—And that what are called lies are perfect
returns,
And that each thing exactly represents itself, and what has preceded it,
And that the truth includes all, and is compact, just as much as space is compact,
And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth—but that all is truth
without
exception;
And henceforth I will go celebrate anything I see or am,
And sing and laugh, and deny nothing.
ALL IS TRUTH---BY WALT WHITMAN
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