Truth be told

We all have an idea of what is true. And that is what we each believe. But I cannot “believe” fully in someone else’s truth. I can’t, and I won’t. 

If we go through life actively seeking what is true, day by day, in spite of the obstacles we encounter, we can live genuine lives that are filled with truth. If we spend time trying to deceive others—trying to get them, for whatever reason (control, power, monetary gain, fame, conquest), we are not living a life devoted to truth. We are living a life actively devoted to deception--to covering up truth. 

If we allow others (significant and otherwise) the freedom of following their idea of the truth, then we can make a society where freedom of belief plays an active role in how we collectively go about our business. When we have debates and discussions with others that involve things we (and they) believe to be true, then we have lively debates that enlighten all parties. 

When we try to sway and bully, then we cause discord. And discord festers. Truth needs to have its figurative teeth and hair brushed daily, while discord, left unattended grows and spreads like mildew, mold, or infection.

As a small child I vaguely remember wanting to know what was true. But a child's world is small, and choices are indeed limited. And I imagine that during my unchecked and confused childhood my relationship with the truth was unformed. I still remember some of the lies I told as a child, and I still remember the things I never told anyone (but should have).

As a young teenager I longed to find some kind of truth. I tried searching for it in other young teenagers, in the songs that were popular during the 1970s that I heard at other people's houses, in the history books written for children that were in the library, in fiction I read written by adults for children, in fiction written by adults for adults, and in adults I knew. I was not successful. 

Finally, at around thirteen, I found truth in Bach, Josquin, Mozart, Monteverdi, and Brahms. And then I learned to recognize truth in other composers, like in Haydn, Beethoven and Ives. I actually got pretty good at recognizing musical truth as a teenager, but I battled with my own sense of what was true (musically and otherwise) way into adulthood. 

The search for truth led me from the flute to the recorder, and it led me from the recorder to the baroque flute, and it led me to the violin, to the viola, and back to the violin. The search for truth helps me when I am writing music. Writing music is my ultimate truth-seeking activity, and it gives me so much honest pleasure when, after fighting with a series of pitches and rhythms, something comes out right and true.