The Truth
I saw a promotion for a documentary on Thoreau yesterday, and during the promotion his search for truth was mentioned. It seems a common goal for writers, they’re always looking for the truth. Lots of people already claim to know the truth, just take a quick gander at all the worlds religions, or anyone trying to sell you something.
My own dealings with the truth shows it to be a slippery thing and hard to deal with. Telling the truth can be a miserable experience, as can be learning the truth. I’ve done both. Confronting the truth about myself was probably the hardest thing I’ve done, but dealing honestly with my frailties has brought me some peace of mind.
In general, it seems to me that searching for the truth involves a certain amount of diligence and is pretty much a never-ending quest. For instance, I have a catalog of things I once thought true that turned out otherwise, and I suspect the list will continue to grow. But I also understand how easy it is to stop searching and just live with the truth you think you know. The latter seems a little sad and static, however, which is why I’ll continue on peering into the shadows, and always wondering why.