A Simple Truth

      There's no easy way to begin. Do we choose a catching story or a surprising fact; do we talk about the weather or say a few jokes? Those late night decisions seem to be more complex than the cosmos or more fragile than a few precious tea cups. But a choice must be made, a choice is always made. And when we find ourselves squirming our way out of a tight situation or looking over our shoulder to ensure our decision was for the best, we must always remember that in those times only a simply truth will take you the extra mile.

       Tonight I had to defend a point I did not agree. In debate I did this most naturally. If I had to defend wind energy, then God was the author and designer of wind energy and we will use it (God willing). If coal plants were the cobble stones that paved our future, then by God we would use them to build bridges between nations and place their sculptures on the highest of mountain peaks. Through these times I never understood my debate friends who couldn't do it themselves; who would rather bow out of a round instead of practicing their skills for when it mattered most: when they defended their love. But tonight I may have had a glimpse of all those moments. A shadowy image of the spy next door. This spiny and prickly friend that told them the secret I've been told now: It's not ingenuity or good intentions that takes you the extra mile but the simple truth.

       It wasn't how he said it or what he said that kept me awake, it was knowing how to do it. Do I choose a catching story or a surprising fact; do we talk about the weather or say a few jokes? It was a late night decision and it wasn't the most prosaic. It was as sharp as any piece of glass, and as organized as a chattered mirror with its thousand faces looking back. What I found in my defense was more than a point I didn't agree with, it was a point that had to be made. It's about the simple truth.

      Will the truth of this essay become obscured by an unknown event or a shadowed by an encoded message – I'm not sure which to believe. The night is passing on without me so I will end with a last message. I was once told that time allows us a small hallway to hang our portraits. They are not always the prettiest and they are not always the hallways we choose, but these portraits are the snapshots of our lives. They capture our moments and help us remember those times. But what makes our portraits fascinating and holds our attention day-in and day-out is that these were the times that made us someone else. So take a moment, lean back in your chair, and remember that the best portraits are always the ones when you spoke the simple truth – that is the beauty in pain and the love in joy.