Bitter.

Plant growing wild outside demolished old villa 2014

 

The truth is a bitter root, that must be hunted for. There are clues here and there as to where we may find it. We must use all our senses. Look for signs in the shapes of leaves, or how thickly they grow. Listen to the sounds of birds that tell us something is here. Or the sounds of silence that tell us something is so fearful that few dare venture near it.

We can feel for it with our hands. It may be dry and crumble between our fingers. It may stick stubbornly, or leave a mark that is hard to wipe off. Breathe it in, and see if it chokes us, or nourishes us. We must beware if it tastes too pleasant.

Because the truth is rarely pleasant. It is bitter, and indeed quite fearful. We may leave it where it is, for others to find. Or we may choose to make the terrifying effort of digging it up. If we do, we must not throw it away. Unpleasant as it may seem, we hold something infinitely valuable in our hands. But even if we do choose to throw it away, it will not matter. We can cast it aside, crush it underfoot, even burn it. But we will never kill it. The truth can be silenced, suffocated, ignored, executed, and voted out of our existence. It does not die. It remains what it is, and it will surface again and again, whether or not we acknowledge it.

If we nurture it and nourish it, it will do the same for us, and for all the generations to come. It will be bitter, and may cause us some pain. It will be worth it.

Do you have a truth? Has it come to you too easily? Without questions or doubts or investigations? Without pain or fear or bewilderment? There is no "your" or "my" truth. Wherever there is a truth, it can only be one. Have you found it? I am still looking.