When I am tempted to say to my self that it is not so clear what truth is, where truth resides, do I lie; to my self? When I have learned to copy, to read others’ notes and answers, and to appropriate them, and to forget whence they came…When I have accomplished the art of telling others what some part of me wants them to hear, and another part says that is not so…When I can tell others whatever I want them to hear, neither a twitch nor a blink…Do I lie to my self?
The problem is not merely in the promise of punishment, of retribution, of payment for wrongs, but in the deeper wonderments about truth and especially of justice.
If I tell the truth to those who will not hear it…If I tell what some do not want told…If I am not clear about the fine mix of morality and truth…Do I lie? To my self?
Is the problem in finding those parts of my self which still can listen to today?
Is the problem in my self which has found out how to deal better with the smaller self-guilts of lies, than the larger guilts of broken and unfulfilled promises to my life?