Avoiding the Truth

When your coping skills turn into escapism.

I spoke with a friend this weekend about something she’s having a hard time letting go of. She knows and keeps reminding herself of all the words of wisdom that are probably true of this situation, like “this challenge is teaching you valuable lessons” and “it’ll lead to something better.” But the truth is that she’s just sad, because she wanted something that didn’t happen; making room for the depth of that sadness is more likely to help her let go than any other theoretical advice on “getting over it”.

Why are we so inclined to avoid the truth of how we feel?

It’s easy to notice the obviously dysfunctional habits we use to avoid ourselves or reality. It’s harder to notice those more subtle and insidious ways we employ to get out of confronting the truth. They are often disguised as something healthy: a great line of timeless wisdom, perhaps, or the fact that we practice xyz. (Or that we’re really into cold plunging or the keto diet lifestyle. Or we treat that Pilates instructor like God.) We can become addicted to the things that help us not be addicted to other things. We end up relating to the methods that help us better ourselves in the same ways we related to our dysfunction. We trick our minds into believing that we’ve overcome something by going and hiding in a different, seemingly more evolved place.

Case in point: my early self-development/spirituality years were spent dogmatically adhering to very specific sets of practices, mostly focused on “detox” and “purification,” that I thought would cure me or put me in contact with higher realms of consciousness. I now call that anorexia in sheep’s clothing. Whenever I start becoming strict and harsh with my “healthy practices”, the hackles of my spirit raise.

It is not uncommon for those who occupy the self-development/therapy world, or who embark on some kind of “healing journey,” to become obsessed with a teacher, or a set of teachings, or a practice. Alternatively, some become obsessed with the journey itself: you know, the self-help guinea pig (that’s me) who wants to try everything that could possibly bring them higher wisdom or personal evolution, and thus samples a variety of practices and teachers. All in the name of growth and progress.

To some extent, this kind of displaced obsession or fixation can be ok. In fact, I think it is simply part of the path. Timeless wisdom, self-development, and spiritual or faith-based practices are beautiful—but we must be aware of how we are relating to them, and what we are using them for. They can still be places we go to avoid ourselves and hide from the truth.

True self-growth and discovery does not come from checking off a morning routine or pumping yourself with affirmations. It doesn’t come through the act of deconstructing your childhood wounds or utilizing your coping skills to get through the day. It may actually be that these things are not even authentic expressions of self; they may actually be preventing you from being in the truth of the now. If your practices are not moving you closer to yourself and the truth, notice that.

True growth and discovery comes through patient, consistent attention to all of the ways you try to escape yourself. It comes through recognizing that whatever the truth of the now is, you are able to feel and face it.

This evasion of truth is so normal—it’s so human. We needn’t pathologize or shame ourselves when we realize we’ve been hiding behind spiritual one-liners or a therapeutic practice.

When you notice that you’re avoiding feeling something, or turning away from the truth, approach yourself with an incredible amount of gentleness. There is nothing else to do but observe. No forcing yourself to stop or change—you just see what you’re doing, all the way. You only have to be willing to face what is here.

If you observe with pure awareness and compassion, it will eventually change. If it is not serving you, it will eventually fall away entirely. Let yourself into the truth, and see that you can handle it. Feel your way through.

How are you evading the truth?

What have you been unwilling to feel?

Maggie