Friends with the truth

It’s good to discover my daughter isn’t bored, scared or intimidated by the truth. Facts are sometimes dull. Though through no fault of their own. After all, they have no ulterior motive than to simply be true. Reality doesn’t care if it wins us over. So what if I die harboring some comforting delusion?

What’s real also never wears makeup. Beware any claim which must first put on its face. Facts are sometimes ugly and often a downright fright to behold.

And what’s more dull than a universe which never speaks at us and behaves as if we’re not even there? Perhaps the brevity of our lives simply earn us no more notice than the sparks of a campfire.

My kid seems fine with this, which fact fills me with greater confidence for her future than  grades, talent or ambition. Let her walk into adulthood unsure and unafraid for the fact of her uncertainty. Prepared to live and ultimately die confident of nothing more than what can be proved, validated or justified. A life where an answer’s quality is the sole measure of its truth. Where comfort and ease have no place in determining what is real.


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