Or- Jonny goes to the Salon.
I don’t use this word often. Seems mean. Besides, with synonyms like: skulduggery, shenanigans, trickery, or monkeyshines, why settle for duplicity?
But I really like the taste of doubleness that lingers in duplicity. Words are a bit magical. Like an invocation, once we have a name for something it pops up all over the place. That’s why I like duplicity. Not the movie, that thing looks awful. The word points out something that ‘hypocrisy’ alone misses.
Let me back up though.
I wish my guiding truths were esoteric and mysterious. Instead they are always simple and blatantly obvious. Nevertheless I love the truth that:
Our beliefs are what we do, not what we say.
This truth came about to help explain the dissonance I felt around some christians. It is even funnier next to angry atheists evangelizing for free thought. In both cases duplicity points out the strange sense that you’re dealing with two different people: the one you’re talking to and the one they think they are.
But like most worthwhile truths, this bears the most fruit when turned back on our selves. If I’m quick to give ‘duplicity’ to others then I have to own ‘multiplicity’ cause I’m full of gaps between what I say and what I do.
I say I’m a seeker of truth, but I love the comfort of white lies.
“yea boss, I gotta leave early for a…. meeting” No I don’t! I scheduled a haircut and didn’t want to be made fun of for it.
Or I’ll pretend to have seen a movie as though I’d be cast out of the village if I hadn’t. Bad plan since it always ends in an uneasy, awkward chuckle: “heeh heeh, I must have forgotten that part… great food here tonight.”
An older post, Bullies and Belief, was all about the gap between “I think people are good” and fearing social situations.
Each time I say one or do the other the gap widens between the ‘me’ in my head and the guy running around in the world. And they aren’t talking. Talking would mean one submitting to the other. So like erosion the gap deepens bit by bit. As the gap widens apathy, depression and quiet discontent all leak out of the chasm.
Okay that sounds extreme, but it’s true in my life. The flip side is true too. Whenever I’ve bridged those gaps, owned my shenanigans and moved towards wholeness that flow of discontent ebbs.
When we watch what we’re doing we come to understand what we really believe, what we are living for and who we are. That sort of authenticity is beauty. At least that’s how I explain my tearing up whenever I listen to This I Believe.