I Can Not Tell a Lie.

Lately I've been thinking about honesty.  I consider myself a pretty honest person- I try to tell the truth and act in honest ways as much as possible, though I'm not above the occasional white lie ("Your pants look fine!"  "The tooth fairy is coming tonight!"  "Roast pork sounds delicious!") (Double parentheses: Now you all can tell when I'm lying because apparently all of my white lies require exclamation points.).  What has been bothering me though, are the lies I tell about how others' behavior impacts me or what my real feelings are about situations.  I want to rationalize this away sometimes, by insisting to myself that the words I speak don't really count as lies because I'm doing it to protect someone else or because I'm just trying to be nice.  The facts are this, though: that even though I'm hiding my own feelings to "protect" someone else, telling the lies is harming me and creating habits in relationships that I am really uncomfortable with. 

I have an example (but I can't go into too much detail just out of common courtesy to the others involved).  I've recently had to end the business relationship with a piano student over attendance.  Attendance has been sketchy pretty much since day one, but since the family was someone that I knew, I pushed my feelings aside and when lessons were cancelled on short notice, or missed entirely with no notice, I would say things like, "Oh, it was no problem." or "Sure, we can do a make-up." when in all actuality the missed lessons were a huge inconvenience to me and a major source of aggravation.  Recently, I decided I couldn't go on anymore- the student had missed or cancelled on very short notice over 20 lessons.  Understandably, the mother is pretty frustrated with me because in her mind (and according to my own behavior to a certain extent), I had communicated to her that the hit and miss attendance wasn't an issue when in reality, it was.  I should have been more honest with her from the very first missed lesson. 

I'm not trying to be a jerk in life.  I really try to be a nice person and I plan on doing that still, but what I'm talking about is being honest in situations where, even if it's uncomfortable, we probably ought to tell the truth in order to keep relationships healthy and live a life in which what we think on the inside and what we say are a good match. 

I had a great conversation with a neighbor the other day- again...it's her story to tell so the details are going to be minimal.  This woman is, by all regards, an amazing mother.  She told me about a couple of struggles she has been having in her life, and what she did about it.  I will say this: I was blessed by her choice to be a truth teller to me, because what she did to solve her struggles kind of went against the grain of typical advice for her situation.  It was very inspiring to me to know that even "amazing mothers" sometimes have to turn away from conventional wisdom and solve their problems in their own way.  My friend then told me that when she embarked on this experiment that she didn't even want to write in her journal about it because she didn't know how things were going to go.  But now, at the end of this particular trial, she was willing to share her little secret with me and I left the conversation feeling so uplifted by her.  And, because it was already on my mind, I saw that as this: There is power in being a truth teller. 

I feel inside like I'm searching for the right balance here.  I think sometimes white lies are a social necessity.  I've also been thinking that I need to be a truth teller about the positives in my life also- there are hundreds of people who have impacted me positively- I shouldn't be keeping that a secret!  I freely admit that I think being kind is tremendously important and I am hoping to find a way to be kind but still be truthful.

I promised a friend a favor: to help her niece with some wedding flowers.  It has been quite a bit of work to ensure we are ordering the exact right thing for her.  She is a grateful girl though, and after the last of several conversations two days ago, she said, "I bet this has been a lot of work, and I really want to thank you."  I started to say my usual "No problem," but I caught myself.  "You're right," I said, "it has been.  You're welcome." I said it smiling and it felt good.