Why Telling the Truth (or at least not lying) Has Had Such a Profound Impact on My Mindset

First published on November 11, 2021

Among the practices that have had the biggest impact on my mindset, the decision to cultivate the habit of telling the truth must be right up there. Top five at least, maybe top two.

In some ways, it is no surprise that I got to the point of making that an explicit practice. In the times when my values system was developing, in my childhood and adolescence, I was consuming so many stories about honour. From Robin Hood and King Arthur, via Spider-Man, Batman and Wolverine, all the way through to David Gemmell. Honesty, integrity and honour were front and centre.

And yet. And yet I wasn't being honest. I was telling lies all the time. As I began to develop myself I began to see more and more these lies. Or, if not lies, these distortions of the truth. But it was only in 2018, when several clients in a very short space of time referenced Jordan Peterson and his book, 12 Rules For Life, that things really shifted. One client said 'I've been reading this book and noticing all the little lies I tell myself.' And once I read the book, and particular Rule 8. 'Tell The Truth – Or At Least Don't Lie,' which is probably the most profound and trasformative chapter in a profound and transformative book, I started to see the little ways I was lying, too. And, with those values of honesty, integrity and honour so clear in my values system, I decided to stop.

I stopped lying about time. I'd already started this, inspired by Gay Hendricks and his Einstein Time idea (number 3, here), but a line was drawn. No more 'I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply' unless I was actually sorry. No more 'I'm sorry this is late' unless I was actually sorry. And that helped my shift into becoming a choice absolutist: remembering that it's never about how much time I have or don't have, it's always about how I choose to spend it. And I tell the truth about that.

More than that, though, I stopped lying about responsibility. Anywhere I saw myself slipping into the comfotable life of the victim mindset, I stopped. No more 'I'm sorry I was late, there was so much traffic'. No, I was late because I didn't leave enough time. I used my truth telling to take responsibility anywhere I could.

I stopped lying in my relationships. This was hard. No more 'I'm sorry I can't make it to these drinks...' followed by a very questionable often not true excuse. No, that's a lie. What's true is that I've got other things that are more important to me. Of course, I mostly didn't say that - I found the more skilful, sensitive ways of saying it. 'I'm sorry I'm not going to come to the drinks. It's just too improtant for me to get some rest this evening.' Not easy, but true. And no longer am I slipping into victim and abdicating responsibility. And it's an act of leadership, too, showing that it's ok to focus on self-care when that's important.

And what was the impact of this? My mindset shifted into the mindset of the player. No longer life happening to me, but life created by me. No longer the comfortable impotence of the victim. Instead the responsibility of the person who runs their own life.

But more than that, my grasp of reality, of what is possible, of what is true, strengthened. No more was the way I made meaning and sense of the world as polluted by the lies and distortions I told myself and others.

This isn't always comfortable. I became a parent 11 months ago. Recently, I had left my daughter alone in a room for just a minute or two while I went to the toilet or something similar. By the time I got back, she was crying. In a reassuring voice, I said 'Oh darling, don't worry. I'll always come back.'

And then I noticed that it wasn't true and, before I could even think about it, two more words came out... 'Except once.'

'I'll always come back... except once.'

The incredible reality of those two words for me is hard to state. I couldn't get through telling the story to my brother and sister-in-law without my voice cracking and tears filling my eyes.

But that is the true reality, which I knew intellectually (of course) but didn't embody until I told the truth to Leah in that moment. And I want to know that reality, so it can inform my life. So that I can live a little more in the grounding of truth today than yesterday. Because with that grounding in truth, I can make more skilful and wise decisions.

Without it, life might feel more comfortable now, but in the end, it won't. In the end, it is more important to know more about reality, so you can face it, than live in comfortable denial.

So, telling the truth is important.