There’s a hostel in Portland with a pristine facade leading to a luxurious entryway, both of which create a stunning first impression for new guests. The building’s interior accommodations, however, are shabby and ragged, leaving patrons—including your two authors—feeling duped by the establishment’s proprietors. Not exactly lied to, but not exactly presented with the Truth either.
Such is the case in our own lives, too…
You see, we humans often claim to be searching for the Truth: We want the right question. The honest answer. The correct formula. But while searching the world around us, what we tend to settle for is something comfortable, something that looks like the Truth, circumventing real Truth for a comfortable facade of Truth.
We purchase things in an effort to make us happy. We attempt to fill the void inside us with ephemeral relationships. We pay lipservice to our priorities, spending time pacifying ourselves instead. We accept the appearance of Truth as if it’s the same thing. But of course it’s not.
Truth: while there’s nothing wrong with owning stuff, new material possessions won’t remove discontent from our lives.
Truth: when we feel empty inside, it is us ourselves who’ve created that void—and only us who can fill it.
Truth: however we spend our time—be it surfing Facebook or exercising at the gym—those are our actual priorities.
The Truth can be sharp, unexpected, painful. Once we get past its jagged edges, though, the Truth represents real comfort—a knowledge that once we drudge through life’s drudgery, we can live a life that’s congruent to our values and beliefs. With or without a beautiful facade, the Truth is always more satisfying than even the prettiest lie.
Subscribe to The Minimalists via email.