honesty

There are few things that feel as indulgent as going out for breakfast on a weekday. For me, it usually means catching up with a truly good friend, eating eggs smothered in cheese cozied up to thick bacon slices, and getting to work by 10:00 a.m.—give or take. This used to be a tradition I shared with my sister for the brief year, or so, we lived in the same city. We’d get up early Friday morning, go out for Monte Cristos, and remark each time how nice it was to skip the weekend crowds that’d be lined up come tomorrow morning. Now, she’s in Vermont. Though I wish she could be passing me the maple syrup on Friday mornings, I’m happy enough to know we’re both living the lives we want, though they’re thousands of miles apart, now.

Fortunately for me, another friend of mine shares the appreciation of the weekday breakfast. We met this morning. She’s one of my closest friends, even though we don’t see each other very often and she has fifty-one years to my twenty-eight. She gives me great advice.

Breakfast is an intimate meal. We didn’t waste it. We talked about honesty. She knows me well enough to know I tend to make nice, only to dream night after night of reaming people out. That’s me--polite until I pass out, then hide the butcher knives, ladies and gentleman. Actually, if I look back, it’s interesting how slight the motion is for me between biting my tongue and biting someone’s head off. All the intermediate steps get buried, I guess.

I don’t know why I often find cold, hard look at myself and (especially) others to be so tough. Maybe I don’t want to believe the world is a hard, cold place. I’ll take my rose colored glasses and stuff my anger/disappointment/resentment someplace where it won’t block my view. Today, my friend told me I have to let it go—that I have to unleash those things that I’m inclined to repackage and justify or simply tuck away. She says “something magical” will happen if I do. This is breakfast and she is honest so I believe her. But I have to wonder if it’s something I honestly can do.