World problems: honesty

20 Sep

Hello lovelies, I honestly mean that!

I’m talking cows. Well, lies and cows.

That’s not a cow. It’s a donkey.

Also NOT A COW! A horse and a human.

You see how people say one thing and give us another? It makes us confused. Sometimes we take it no further because we don’t know how to. It’s pretty hard to get far with making you believe that the photo of a donkey/horse/human is actually a photo of a cow. But what about snot-like by-products in our milk in NZ. Permeates

And a world of lies that surround us. It’s part of my disillusionment. A reason I’m taking part in positively changing the world. Milk drop by milk drop.

You may remember that I harp on and on about how honesty is super important to me. I am so disillusioned by how much dishonesty exists.

Ah, a cow! Well, actually a steer to be more precise! Looks can be deceiving, huh?! (I haven’t a picture of a cow!). And you’re welcome for my being honest!

Right, back to my questioning lies.

My educated guess is that it arises primarily from need. Some need dishonesty for protection, some for getting away with something that might not be accepted, is illegal/stupid/dangerous/mean/disgusting/protecting someone else from pain/insert your choice here, some choose to be dishonest because society has set some ‘standards’ and because they don’t fit the box perfectly as society/they believe should they feel the need to hide/disguise/adjust/redefine the truth as the mood suits.

I have issues with truth and honesty. I am not a perfect person. A white lie might fly every now and again. But I am trying to not do this and I find the person I do it to most is myself. Because sometimes it’s easier to accept an untruth than to face the facts. The truth hurts, they always say that don’t they?

‘Does my bum look fat in this?’ ‘Fat? You look like you’re housing a shed of cows in there! Your rearend is wider than the back end of a bus, an airbus!! ‘  Ouch. Painful. Not the kind of pleasant truth. And also, not quite the kind of lie I mean. But you know what I mean. A lie is a lie is an untruth is a dishonesty is an illusion of knowledge.

An illusion of knowledge.

What we believe we know differs from what we actually know. Because the world keeps secrets. Keeps information. Information is private. Confidential. Truths affect outcomes.

Sometimes that means money. Decisions. Therefore we lie. The world is a liar!

I have this new sense of freedom at living honesty. Living truth.

I am so disillusioned with the world. Society sets so many boundaries and standards, boundaries and standards that so many of us can’t live up to because, simply put, they are unachievable, unattainable, false, misconceptions.

It’s so difficult to know where you stand, what is truth, what is hidden.

Today I stopped to let a lady cross and she waved and mouthed a thanks to me. I felt like a saint. Like it was special to stop. What the heck does that mean? People don’t want to inconvenience others by making them stop at a crossing? It’s just common courtesy and respect, but it’s also a safety issue. We move through life too fast. I wait at the crossing to watch my 6-year old make it safely across, even though there are crossing guards and lollipop parents, I just fear the situation anyway. People drive to fast, move through life too fast. So fast you can’t always communicate, make friends.

Anyway, this lady thanked me and smiled. So I smiled back because I cannot not smile when someone smiles at me (do you know how many people are comfortable ignoring you or staring back without a smile these days, it’s total crap. Emotion is limited). When she realised I had smiled back she smiled broadly (all while safely crossing the road). A moment of realisation passed between us. Like-minded people. So people do still communicate through a smile. I felt slightly conciliated that the world is still a little honest and lovely.

However, I find the dishonesty troubling. I highlight, for example, the untruths of foods. The labeling doesn’t include all the ingredients. At least not in ways the lay person might understand. Colour 666, Additive 999, Preservative 111. Now I like maths, thus numbers I appreciate. But when those numbers might represent something scary dangerous for my health and my family’s I find it difficult. Disgusting.

I know an alcoholic. Who doesn’t share the fact. But we know all the same. It’s hard to hide.

Everyone has the right to lie. But everyone also has the right to know the truth, be told the truth, receive that respect. That is not to say that everyone should be privy to everyone’s business and privacy and respecting privacy is important and significant. Like the Duchess of Cambridge’s boobs. They’re her own, private boobs. You peeping Tom. 

But, Princess boobs aside, in this world of half-truths, innuendos, and unknowns, sometimes a little honesty is helpful. Fair even, if you will.

When it’s a health and safety issue, the importance of truth is huge gigantic massive phenomenal monumental.

But some things are easy to hide. Easy. To. Hide. Lies.

I want to know what’s in my food. I want to know what chemicals I am potentially applying to my or my children’s skin. I want to be allowed to make informed decisions about things that affect me. Food. Television. Sunscreen. Face cream. Plastic containers. Lead-laden paint on toys. Milk. I just want to be respected enough that I have access to the truth about stuff. I know money is precious, believe me I know, but that is no reason to be dishonest.

Honesty. How much are we getting? Prior to being poisoned by BPA’s, MSG’s, 666’s, 999’s, 111’s and every other unlisted truth in our list-loving lives. The only abbreviations I’m happy with are on my Starbucks cup.  I mean, before the fact. Before I apparently eat…shit. Don’t say ‘yuck, we don’t’. HOW DO WE KNOW WE DON’T?

And that’s a rhetorical question right there lovelies, because, apparently, we know close to nothing about the truth. And I’m freaking out. This freaks me out. Possibly as much as the truth probably would. Because otherwise, why wouldn’t we know the truth?!

Because who wants to consume snot-like-consistency-watered-down-milk. It’s putting milk into milk. BOLLOCKS Bob. BOLLOCKS. It’s putting __% of permeates back into milk. Just write it on the box. I might still buy it. I might not. At least let us choose whether we do based on our own reasoning, our own knowledge. Some might know permeates. Some might not.

I just want the truth. Informed decision-making is not overrated. It’s fair play.

I try to buy commercial food stuffs that have 5 or less ingredients. And all of them recognisable. I try to buy local. I try to buy fresh. I educate myself every day. Not just for myself, but because I am raising other humans. And I want them to be healthy, responsible future adults.

The other day I offered Romeo a glass of lemonade. He declined as it has ‘too much sugar’. I said sometimes it’s okay to have a little. He drank water.

Tonight Romeo took his sister’s and his dinner plates/cups/utensils to the kitchen after dinner. I didn’t have to ask. I had a double scoop of ice-cream. Just saying. 

Part of the reason I decided to start this blog was to share. To speak. To have a place to speak. So often we want to say something but are afraid to. We feel like the only one. People make everything, their lives, look so spick and span. Shiny nice lives in their nice houses with nice kids and a husband that vacuums and a wife who is Victoria Beckham’s body-double.

We feel like it shouldn’t be that way, the way we are. That we shouldn’t be/feel/live/think/exist this way. But it is okay to say. We are individuals. Special individuals. But what we go through, the things we think and feel are likely shared by others. Maybe not exactly the same. Experience is, after all, a highly personal thing. But this is a big ol’ world filled with a lot of humans and we share a lot of commonalities. And instead of making us feel bad for speaking about something. We must speak up, to give ourselves (and through that give others) a voice. To show that it is okay to be you. To be honestly you. Whatever that may be.

Think about that lovelies. Please.

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