You should probably handle the truth.

by P. Braithwaite


I’ve mentioned a few times over the last few weeks, that I’ve recently enrolled in a leadership training at The Institute for Compassionate Leadership. There’s so much unfolding as a result of my choice, but our FIRST assignment was to create a fundraising campaign for a portion of our tuition. In the information packet we received, the assignment was framed as a low-stakes spiritual lesson — our relationship to raising money and galvanizing community support
was clearly an opportunity for growth.

So I spent a lot of time thinking about how to raise money in a way that felt honest and true, I looked up successful fundraising campaigns on indiegogo, I wrote some stuff for my page (because writing feels natural), and finally I created a video.

I’ve been blogging for years, and ya’ll have YET to see a video, so you should gather that video is not ‘my thing.’

In the spirit of growth (and the realization that people like videos), I propped my iPad up on my kitchen chair. I asked one of my clients for use of her remote control video starter gadget, I put on a little makeup, and got to work.

I did take after take, scrutinizing my words and my facial features. Finally, after a few hours, I had a few clips I was happy with. I put them together, added some effects with an iPad video app. TA-DA, I was basking in my genius.

I sent it to my mom.

“You can’t use this…your eyes look crazy, and your gestures are distracting.”

“You’re going to have to do this over.”

It was 2am when she told me this, and I’d started around 6pm. I hung up in a huff and went to bed.

The next morning, I showed it to Boyfriend Zero who, though a bit softer, mimicked my mom’s sentiments.

“I mean, what you say is dope, so that’s like half the battle.”

I teetered on the verge of a meltdown when Boyfriend Zero followed up the truth with what I like to call medicine…

“…lemme see if I can play with the editing for you.”

And he did. He tweaked the lighting, he reordered shots, he picked scenes that made the most sense. He made me find happy music and re-do a few voice overs.

I was a miserable grump during the whole process, but he persevered. The truth + some medicine…made it better. The truth created an opportunity for me to stretch.

We know the saying: the truth hurts, and it does. Sometimes truth is a punch in the throat or a pin prick to an overinflated ego.

But here’s the thing …no one said getting better was easy. Trela, my best friend who was just hit by a car, is living proof that repair isn’t pleasant.

The truth is resetting the bone. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s the path of true stability.

You can’t get better without the truth.

Today, I am in deep gratitude for those who tell the truth. I’m in deep gratitude for those who share insights and possible solutions, who reset the bone and offer casts and crutches to support the journey. If our purpose is to truly reach our highest calling, then the truth is rocket fuel allowing us to go farther.

I pray for our ability to hear, speak and implement the truth.

Even when the truth makes us cry.

And so it is.

Wanna see the finished fundraising product? Click here! (And donate…if you’d like).