It happens when you feel something deep inside and are able to respond from deep inside. Then, somehow, that truth seems to fade. You question yourself and eventually the nature of the truth itself. You wonder how it was that you believed it. You question the relevance of everything in the wake of the fading, temporary truth. It was most probably a false assumption. Never a truth, delusional. This logic causes you to question and maybe deny emotion as a gateway to truth. If you could have believed this temporary truth, might you not have been capable of believing any fairy tale?
I seem to be a repository for some temporary truths. I get associated with a time best forgotten. A time or temporary truths…
Bruce Springsteen wrote, “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true or is it something worse…” There was the essence of a temporary truth. They are sometimes displayed in dreams and not all dreams come true. Are the dreams that do not come true relegated to the status of temporary truths? Am I a temporary truth? Are our lives temporary truths?
Often we are fictionalized as part of a rendered past. We want truth to be forever even if we are not. We don’t accept the change of truth easily. We want truth to be greater than ourselves. Temporary truth seems to fail this test of longevity. Sometimes we hold their ephemeral quality in a state of disdain.
Eventually, sometimes, we learn that it is us and not the temporary truth that is found wanting. It was just what is seemed to be; true for that moment. If we invested more than that moment, we were left behind by its fleeting nature. Some might believe that the nature of temporary truth is therefore unreal. Again we are faced with the question: Are we any more than temporary truths?
Some of these truths are private but some can be public. Jack Ruby executed Lee Oswald on public television and for that instant that we saw it, the truth of vengeance applied. Later we mostly all regretted feeling that, but we had. The temporary truth was that we wanted him punished for stealing a future that we saw as our own. That may have been true but it probably wasn’t, another temporary truth.
The relief that you may feel at the departure of a lover is another of the temporary truths. It feels necessary at the time but upon reflection, not so much. Being the creator of such a truth is probably easier than being its recipient.
My mom introduced me to this girl named Barbara. She was a few years older, but there was a kind of attraction. She found out that she was pregnant. I went with her for the abortion. I tried to emotionally support her. I was not the father, but I became identified with the abortion. She would rather forget it along with me because I reminded her of it. Temporary truth was that I was good at the time and then definitely needed to be discarded. I think that I did her some good, even though she needed to discard and forget that I existed. It is that way with temporary truths?
Does being discarded mean irrelevance? Do you wind up in some tragic little bin of temporary truths, not unlike the one that Amanda Priestly describes in The Devil Wears Prada? There is a pathetic aspect to that sense of truth, a Don Quixote feel. You stand for a shining light in the realm of the blind. Perhaps the movers of temporary truth giggle about how you stood firm.
I believe in these truths. Even though they are ephemeral and their nature flies in the face of the permanent nature that we seek from truth. Perhaps the essence of truth is also ephemeral.
The earth is flat. There is a heaven and hell. These were thought to be ironclad examples of truths that did not fade, but they did. Some stayed behind and some moved ahead and the nature of those truths became barriers for those who lingered. They were defined by their reluctance to let go of a temporary truth. They can be cruel that way.
We have all constructed parts of our lives on those temporary truths that we may not wish to examine. What happens to them? Do we dismiss them? Think them products of faulty reasoning? In our most private moments do we recognize that we let those truths down?
Does a dream become a lie if it don’t come true? What could be worse? Perhaps we need to laugh off temporary truths, think of them as a kind of incidental distraction… Does that hold up to introspection?
“When I am with you,” she said, “it feels like everything that you say is absolutely true. When you are gone, not as much.” We have all been temporary truths. Perhaps they are just a manipulation of circumstances, intentions unknown or notwithstanding. More like you become a necessary fool.
I do like to harvest temporary truths. Maybe their ephemeral quality speaks more directly to the nature of who and what we are.