Maybe Together, We Can All Tell The Truth
Now is not the time.
Now is not the time to hesitate.
Now is not the time to hold back, to tell your usual half-truths, to make nice.
If a global pandemic can’t reckon radical honesty, I’m not sure what can.
Now is not the time to say what you think you’re supposed to say. All the rules of niceties have gone out the window, and all we have left is honesty. If we can only communicate through fragmented text messages and social media captions and endless Zoom calls (professional and personal, just for a mindf-ck to blur the lines between work and life even further), how can we afford to not bring honesty to the table?
Feel the weight lift off of you when you tell your coworker that yeah, today actually isn’t a great day. Feel the relief when they return the honesty in kind.
Honesty has been my sole relief in all this. To know that the false, impossible expectations of a perfect workday have been shattered. We are all exhausted, confused, stressed beyond belief. The difference is, we can say that now. Radical honesty has busted down the doors of corporate America, but it will only remain if we continue to give it a seat at the table. To laugh at the ever-interrupting children in the background instead of remaining silent, compelling the parent of said children to apologize.
Do not apologize for being alive. For having a pile of laundry in the back of your office which is actually your bedroom. For needing to eat in the midst of your four hours of Zoom meetings. For taking a walk. For taking an actual break when you need it.
I’ve worked more than this, but I’ve never felt as drained at the end of the workday as I have in these three months. It’s more than just helping an entire organization pivot within a week’s time. It’s more than communicating the unknowable to thousands of people around the world. It’s more than finding an hour to work while also homeschooling.
It’s living through a global crisis — and still working.
So next time you consider “putting on a brave face” to appear chipper on your first meeting of the day, let them see you instead. Let them understand that it is hard, impossible even, and yet here you are, doing it. Imperfectly, as we all are, but doing it nonetheless. The miracle is in the doing, not in the perfection. Let that be your grace.