Self-deception and the limited lifespan of lies
Wednesday, October 28, 2009 by the BCth
Once again, I have been totally neglecting this blog, despite all my good intentions to keep writing in it. Now I come to a point where I really don't care how wise or knowledgeable or intelligent or talented with words I come across as being. Life has lately been so humbling to me that I simply can't afford to set up any thresholds higher than where I am right now, which is flat on the floor, metaphorically speaking. My desire to impress and inspire others has been beaten out of me. I am nothing.
And yet, I am here.
And yet, I shine forth what little refracted, dimly reflected light I have.
(I've also given up on the idea that I have to write on a specific topic every time. Right now, I'm just letting the words flow. So much easier to let these entries write themselves. ;) )
I was thinking just now, at breakfast (coffee and cream, which is how I start my day when I'm not at all feeling on top of my world, otherwise it's usually tea and porridge), how masterful we are at deceiving ourselves. Even sometimes when we tell ourselves and believe we're being honest, we're not.
I've been deceiving myself in the most tragicomical way these past months. Thinking I could go on and make my way through life without doing certain things. As though I were some kind of special case. And given how basically honest (I think) I am, that deception has had to rely on a huge helping of denial in order to stay viable. I am an introvert, and I have a vivid inner life. My imagination dreams up things that aren't necessarily true all the time. Normally, I can tell the difference between outer reality and these products of imagination, but that does sometimes require taking a step back and being consciously objective about things. In the case of this lie, I didn't want to do that, so I had to keep telling myself new lies and stopping myself from thinking about the whole issue. And that's how it usually works, isn't it?
Truth has a way of coming out, though, and lies have a way of being revealed for what they are. All it takes is time for the circumstances to bring that about. In my particular case, luckily, those circumstances have now become concrete and impossible to ignore. Given certain acquired failings of my character, I am infinitely grateful for the support I have been receiving from my close relatives and friends. Without their help, I would probably be well on the way to being evicted from my apartment by now.
Much as I'd like to be able to offer some kind of generally applicable wisdom on this subject (and heaven knows I love to play the wise man), I feel obliged at this moment to at least try to rein in that ambition and not overstep my bounds. We'll see how that works out, though. ;)
Without spinning too many sweeping generalities, let me touch upon one of the greatest deceptions I've ever perpetrated upon myself, from my current perspective: religion.
Starting when I first became aware of such a thing as personal religious faith, around perhaps the age of six or seven, up until my twenty-fourth year, religion was a major part of my life. In retrospect, my first impression of it, through the innocent eyes of a four-year-old boy, was probably the truest. I remember sitting in church about Easter time, listening to the words of the preacher, and thinking, “Why does he keep going on about this dead guy named Jesus? What do I care?” There were more sermons from different speakers, but they were all on the same (to my mind) irrelevant subject. And man, were they depressing, too! I said to my parents, straight up, that I didn't care to hear any more about this dead guy named Jesus. They were taken aback, I guess, but shrugged off my words as mere childish talk, not to be taken too seriously. I imagine they figured I would come around when I was a little older and better able to understand what it (the Jesus thing) was all about. Well, they were right about that. I did come around. I came around pretty hard, actually.
The sect of Christianity I was raised into is a fascinating subject unto itself, but for the purposes of this blog entry let me sum it up with just one word: conservative. I even hesitate to use that label, because I know a lot of folks inside that group who I would describe as being rather liberal than conservative, and God bless them for that. (grin) I prefer to view the sect as a collection of unique (emphasis: unique!) individuals under one convenient banner rather than a monolithic group of thought-clones. Although, come to think of it, it does contain its share of the clones, too... no, I'm kidding. But it's true that a certain degree of suppression of independent thought is a feature there, which is, I think, typical of all dogmatic institutions. But I digress.
Suffice to say there is a certain set of dogmatic beliefs, both overt and unspoken, that you generally have to subscribe to in order to be broadly accepted as a member of the sect, one of the “believers.” Never mind whether those beliefs are internally consistent, logical, or based on fact. I'm not even saying they necessarily aren't. That's for each person to decide for themselves. What I'm saying is, that's the requisite for membership, in practical terms. (Plus there's the matter of who's qualified to open the door for you; clearly, only an existing member has that qualification. I bypassed that myself, being born and raised into the faith.)
Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is that I was about as “in” as you can be. I believed it all, even the parts that were not so easy to swallow. It wasn't even very difficult, most of the time. Do you know why?
I wanted to believe.
I wanted to believe, and that was that. That's really what it comes down to. If, deep down, you really want to believe something, you'll find a way to do it. In the case of a lie, you'll set up whatever construction of denials, plausible lines of reasoning, and/or emotional appeals it takes. Failing that, you'll just... believe anyway. Or not. But in my case, for a long time, I did. (And yes, I am personally coming out and calling that belief system a lie, because that is what it most definitely appears to be in my eyes now. I have no qualms or doubts when I say that. But, as always, judgement is subjective. One person's despicable lie is another's sublime truth. Ain't nothing wrong with that.)
Now mind you, a belief system certainly doesn't have to be all true to be useful. If Christianity weren't useful to someone, it would have no reason to exist. In the same vein, a lie doesn't have to be all untrue in order to be an effective lie. It merely has to bend the truth just enough.
It was because of the perceived overall usefulness to me of that conservative Christian belief system, and its apparent proximity to the truth as I then beheld it, that I wanted to invest myself in it. When those circumstances changed – in other words, when I gradually lost my spiritual use for it and it was no longer close enough to my evolving sense of the truth – I abandoned it. Very simple.
And yet, there was that crucial, defining moment of decision, when I said to myself, “I just want the truth. Come what may, I just want the truth.” In that moment, I was prepared to give up beliefs that I'd cherished for years, which had become part of my very identity, and which formed the context, if not the basis, of almost my entire social life, all for the sake of finding the truth. I no longer wanted to believe as much as I wanted to find the truth.
It was in that moment that I made a bigger leap of faith than I'd ever made before. Faith means trusting. I trusted that I would be able to find greater truth, and that that greater truth would not condemn my soul to eternal suffering in hell (as I'd been assured so many times that it would), but that it would actually set me free instead.
Well, to be honest, I don't think I'm very free yet – at least, not nearly as free as I'd like to be – but I'm certainly freer in some key ways as a direct result of no longer deceiving myself in line with that tired old system. I think the less I fool myself, the freer I become. It's working on the level of practical, everyday issues, so why shouldn't it work on higher levels as well? Food for thought.
And yet, I am here.
And yet, I shine forth what little refracted, dimly reflected light I have.
(I've also given up on the idea that I have to write on a specific topic every time. Right now, I'm just letting the words flow. So much easier to let these entries write themselves. ;) )
I was thinking just now, at breakfast (coffee and cream, which is how I start my day when I'm not at all feeling on top of my world, otherwise it's usually tea and porridge), how masterful we are at deceiving ourselves. Even sometimes when we tell ourselves and believe we're being honest, we're not.
I've been deceiving myself in the most tragicomical way these past months. Thinking I could go on and make my way through life without doing certain things. As though I were some kind of special case. And given how basically honest (I think) I am, that deception has had to rely on a huge helping of denial in order to stay viable. I am an introvert, and I have a vivid inner life. My imagination dreams up things that aren't necessarily true all the time. Normally, I can tell the difference between outer reality and these products of imagination, but that does sometimes require taking a step back and being consciously objective about things. In the case of this lie, I didn't want to do that, so I had to keep telling myself new lies and stopping myself from thinking about the whole issue. And that's how it usually works, isn't it?
Truth has a way of coming out, though, and lies have a way of being revealed for what they are. All it takes is time for the circumstances to bring that about. In my particular case, luckily, those circumstances have now become concrete and impossible to ignore. Given certain acquired failings of my character, I am infinitely grateful for the support I have been receiving from my close relatives and friends. Without their help, I would probably be well on the way to being evicted from my apartment by now.
Much as I'd like to be able to offer some kind of generally applicable wisdom on this subject (and heaven knows I love to play the wise man), I feel obliged at this moment to at least try to rein in that ambition and not overstep my bounds. We'll see how that works out, though. ;)
Without spinning too many sweeping generalities, let me touch upon one of the greatest deceptions I've ever perpetrated upon myself, from my current perspective: religion.
Starting when I first became aware of such a thing as personal religious faith, around perhaps the age of six or seven, up until my twenty-fourth year, religion was a major part of my life. In retrospect, my first impression of it, through the innocent eyes of a four-year-old boy, was probably the truest. I remember sitting in church about Easter time, listening to the words of the preacher, and thinking, “Why does he keep going on about this dead guy named Jesus? What do I care?” There were more sermons from different speakers, but they were all on the same (to my mind) irrelevant subject. And man, were they depressing, too! I said to my parents, straight up, that I didn't care to hear any more about this dead guy named Jesus. They were taken aback, I guess, but shrugged off my words as mere childish talk, not to be taken too seriously. I imagine they figured I would come around when I was a little older and better able to understand what it (the Jesus thing) was all about. Well, they were right about that. I did come around. I came around pretty hard, actually.
The sect of Christianity I was raised into is a fascinating subject unto itself, but for the purposes of this blog entry let me sum it up with just one word: conservative. I even hesitate to use that label, because I know a lot of folks inside that group who I would describe as being rather liberal than conservative, and God bless them for that. (grin) I prefer to view the sect as a collection of unique (emphasis: unique!) individuals under one convenient banner rather than a monolithic group of thought-clones. Although, come to think of it, it does contain its share of the clones, too... no, I'm kidding. But it's true that a certain degree of suppression of independent thought is a feature there, which is, I think, typical of all dogmatic institutions. But I digress.
Suffice to say there is a certain set of dogmatic beliefs, both overt and unspoken, that you generally have to subscribe to in order to be broadly accepted as a member of the sect, one of the “believers.” Never mind whether those beliefs are internally consistent, logical, or based on fact. I'm not even saying they necessarily aren't. That's for each person to decide for themselves. What I'm saying is, that's the requisite for membership, in practical terms. (Plus there's the matter of who's qualified to open the door for you; clearly, only an existing member has that qualification. I bypassed that myself, being born and raised into the faith.)
Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is that I was about as “in” as you can be. I believed it all, even the parts that were not so easy to swallow. It wasn't even very difficult, most of the time. Do you know why?
I wanted to believe.
I wanted to believe, and that was that. That's really what it comes down to. If, deep down, you really want to believe something, you'll find a way to do it. In the case of a lie, you'll set up whatever construction of denials, plausible lines of reasoning, and/or emotional appeals it takes. Failing that, you'll just... believe anyway. Or not. But in my case, for a long time, I did. (And yes, I am personally coming out and calling that belief system a lie, because that is what it most definitely appears to be in my eyes now. I have no qualms or doubts when I say that. But, as always, judgement is subjective. One person's despicable lie is another's sublime truth. Ain't nothing wrong with that.)
Now mind you, a belief system certainly doesn't have to be all true to be useful. If Christianity weren't useful to someone, it would have no reason to exist. In the same vein, a lie doesn't have to be all untrue in order to be an effective lie. It merely has to bend the truth just enough.
It was because of the perceived overall usefulness to me of that conservative Christian belief system, and its apparent proximity to the truth as I then beheld it, that I wanted to invest myself in it. When those circumstances changed – in other words, when I gradually lost my spiritual use for it and it was no longer close enough to my evolving sense of the truth – I abandoned it. Very simple.
And yet, there was that crucial, defining moment of decision, when I said to myself, “I just want the truth. Come what may, I just want the truth.” In that moment, I was prepared to give up beliefs that I'd cherished for years, which had become part of my very identity, and which formed the context, if not the basis, of almost my entire social life, all for the sake of finding the truth. I no longer wanted to believe as much as I wanted to find the truth.
It was in that moment that I made a bigger leap of faith than I'd ever made before. Faith means trusting. I trusted that I would be able to find greater truth, and that that greater truth would not condemn my soul to eternal suffering in hell (as I'd been assured so many times that it would), but that it would actually set me free instead.
Well, to be honest, I don't think I'm very free yet – at least, not nearly as free as I'd like to be – but I'm certainly freer in some key ways as a direct result of no longer deceiving myself in line with that tired old system. I think the less I fool myself, the freer I become. It's working on the level of practical, everyday issues, so why shouldn't it work on higher levels as well? Food for thought.
