In our own lives, we only ever have a partial understanding of the truth. In our understanding of events which affect us, all we can say to be true is that which we experience directly, though even that is subject to interpretation.
What was said in our absence: the great unknown. What others tell us was said in our absence: doubtful, depending on the trustworthiness of our interlocutor…
What others tell us about the other parties. Our interpretation of a facial expression. How we heard something. What we thought we heard. Our own mental state. Our inclinations. Our natural biases and assumptions. On and on like this.
Events that affect us can be a minefield. Most of the time we just have to let go of the idea of establishing the facts. Mostly there is just our understanding of them, usually swayed by the calls of our heart.
A friend might try to set you straight with their understanding of the facts, but for all you know, that too may be an assumption at best or outright misinformation at worst.
In our personal interactions, I’m not even sure that it is possible to talk of the truth. At most there is our truth, which is our personal understanding of the part we could see or hear alone.
All else is the unknown. Mostly that unknown will never be known in this worldly realm. In these interactions, we really cannot claim to be witnesses to truth. At most, witnesses to part of the truth.
Much as I yearn to understand what may once have happened, I know I never really will. There was what I thought happened, what a friend told me happened and the unheard accounts of what really happened, all now long forgotten. Only the angels have a clear register of the facts.
For us mere mortals, there is just repentance, forgiveness and letting go. Anything else is insanity.
Last modified: 23 April 2022
