Pretense is like icing on a mudpie.

I can't take credit for this clever phrase. But I'm passing it along to you.

You. Who feels like you keep trying and trying and you're getting nowhere. No results. No progress. No forward motion. Whatever you want to call it.

Life either feels like Groundhog Day or like you're moving forward at a glacial pace. And it's hard to feel excited, happy or fulfilled when life feels like that. It's hard to keep summoning courage and conviction. It's hard to keep the faith. 

So you try once more. You apply more pressure of the form of pretense. You grin and bear it. You wear a different pair of shoes or get a new haircut. You avoid announcing that you got fired. You don't share about the miscarriage or your divorce. You move the furniture around, "arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic" as the saying goes.

But it's just like putting icing on a mudpie, making things look better than they are. Because what's underneath isn't transformed. What's underneath is that which drives us all. And it hides out, watching and waiting as new layers of veneer are applied. It listens for us to say, "no REALLY. This time it's different. I'm making a change."

Doing this actually makes your life work less. You're dodging your blind spots. You're avoiding your habits and patterns. Your fears, your concerns and considerations. Dressing up your justifications and defense mechanisms and reasons doesn't make them go away. 

What's the alternative? I should probably offer that.

The alternative is to actually put down the act and just be yourself. All the covering up is painfully obvious to other people, you're not really fooling anyone. Some of them are secretly hoping you'll stop sooner than later because it's exhausting to watch. It's way more fun and refreshing and SAFE to be around people who are honest, authentic and perfectly imperfect.

You can be this, too. 

And you won't have to worry as much about the top layers because now instead of mudpie underneath, you're top-shelf Red Velvet or Black Forest or whatever other damn cake analogy you want to make. 

Not that mudpies are bad. But you're a person, not a mudpie.

Just sayin'.

 

Dillan DiGiovanniComment