Is It True?

Want to go on a lifelong quest that goes nowhere?

Search for the truth.

Because once you start searching for the truth, you'll be searching forever.

You’ll go down this avenue, that alley, you’ll read something that convinces you, only to read something else that convinces you otherwise.

And before you know it, you’re not really looking for truth anymore.

You’re looking for confirmation.

You’re looking for something that agrees with what you already believe.

And that can keep you busy for a lifetime.

So what if there’s another way?

What if, instead of searching for the truth, we simply became more interested in reality?

Because reality doesn’t require us to search for it.

It’s right here.

An apple fell out of a tree.

How do I know?

I saw it happen.

I don't have to believe it.

I don't have to convince you it happened.

I don't need an argument for it.

It happened.

That’s reality.

And that got me thinking about how much of what we call “truth” is actually somebody’s interpretation of reality.

We hear things like, “That’s your truth.”

Or, “This is my truth.”

And I understand what people mean by that.

But there’s something interesting about the phrase.

Reality doesn’t have versions.

The apple doesn’t have your version of falling and my version of falling.

It fell.

Reality doesn’t need varnish.

It doesn’t need spin.

It doesn’t need to win an argument.

It simply is.

And maybe that’s where we get ourselves into trouble.

We spend so much time trying to determine whether what we believe is true that we sometimes overlook what's actually happening right in front of us.

We argue about what should be.

What might be.

What ought to be.

What we want it to be.

And all the while, reality is sitting there quietly saying . . .

“This is what is.”

There’s something wonderfully grounding about those two words:

What is.

Not what I wish it were.

Not what I was told it was.

Not what I need it to be.

What is.

Maybe the invitation isn’t to stop thinking about truth.

Maybe it’s to start noticing.

Notice what's happening.

Notice what you’re feeling.

Notice what you’re doing.

Notice what’s actually in front of you before your mind rushes in to explain it.

Because the moment we stop arguing with reality, we have something solid to work with.

You can respond to reality.

You can learn from reality.

But you can't change what already is by arguing that it shouldn't be.

And that may be the closest thing to truth we’re ever going to get.

I could tell you that everything I’ve just said is true.

But that would be a lie.

It’s not “the truth.”

It’s just another pointer – a pointer toward something much more useful:

Reality.

And perhaps the question isn't,

“Is it true?”

Perhaps the better question is simply . . .

“Is it so?”

All the best,

John