We each have our own version of the truth. And that’s the truth. Really.

In religion, consider how the core beliefs of devout Christians, Jews, Muslims, and atheists differ. Look at what not just the current political candidates but all candidates in your memory spout forth. It sounds something like this: “I’m telling you the truth, so that makes the other person a liar.”

From lifestyle choices to parenting decisions, there are so many variances. How can they all be the right way? Even for something as minor as what HAS to be the best television show, we each carry our own version of what’s true. If you have trouble with that one, consider the debate over Downton Abbey. People I know either love that show or couldn’t care less about it.

I’ve listened to various presentations and read multiple authors who speak to the point that we each see our version of life as the real one. But it’s hardly a new topic. Soren Kierkegaard (born in 1813 in Copenhagen) was an Existentialist Philosopher. On the issue of subjectivity he observed that every human perceives the world, and thus, “the truth” differently.

So I get that. I know it and I believe it. I’m posting this blog about it. And likely many of you get it as well.

Isn’t it curious, then, that we (and I’m definitely including myself here) forget that fundamental point when someone opposes our personalized version of the truth? And our reactions can run from mild annoyance to outright hostility to vengeful action against the person who is so “obviously wrong.”

What if, in our everyday lives, we could stop acting as though we ourselves are correct and everyone else is wrong?  I imagine the experience of doing that would be close to a meditative state where a thought (“Hmmm…he thinks about that subject differently than I do.”) might pass across our consciousness. And instead of allowing that thought to remain and morph into something negative, we just let it go. Imagine it’s a helium filled balloon whose string we let slip from our fingers.

So he thinks differently than I do. OK. That doesn’t make him wrong, nor does it make me right. In other words, no one died and left me in charge of the world.

This is a lesson I struggle to remember. My husband once bought me a shirt that displayed the message, “She Who Must Be Obeyed.” He said it was a reference to a British television show. I’m pretty sure the shirt was a joke, but I can’t be certain.

And that’s the truth. But as I see it, of course.

To my readers: I’d love to know your thoughts on this.