Strongly Worded

Radical Honesty

The woman who works in the office next to ours is a sex therapist, and I think her job is among the world's most fascinating. Jassy and I have lunch together occasionally, and during this week's lunch I learned all about the latest therapeutic concept: Radical Honesty.

Jassy just returned from an eight-day training on this theme. The training was led by a pioneering psychotherapist, and entailed intense emotional bonding and an entirely raw-food menu. The premise of Radical Honesty is that all feelings have physical origins, and that by identifying and responding to them, we can purge ourselves of resentment. Apparently all feelings stem from resentment (which is intrinsic--a byproduct of fight-or-flight instincts). When we just notice resentment (as opposed to analyzing it), we can own it and thus get rid of it.

Example: We are dining at the Cheesecake Factory and you point out that my Navajo sandwich is huge, and that I could save half of it for lunch tomorrow. I notice my pulse increase. As a Radical Honesty disciple, I say, "I resent that you said that my meal is so big. It makes me feel like you're harping on my weight." I do not say "I resent it when you criticize my eating habits" because that would be (potentially erroneously) interpreting the comment. Being radically honest means not caring or thinking about intent. It's all about gut reactions, not analysis. We should start feeling and stop thinking. The Radical Honesty guru swears that the "mind is a terrible thing not to waste."

I have thought about this idea at length over the last few days, because I think Radical Honesty (in many forms) is a very powerful idea. It's a central tenet of the Unitarian faith, and my friend A.P. (who is Unitarian but also on a spiritual quest) taught me about how amazing relationships can be when they are completely devoid of any and all lies:

I know you'll find a higher-level job (actually, I think you should settle for an admin position).

Wow-- that was hot and arousing (actually, I hate that move--are we done yet?).

I enjoy the company of your friend Amanda (actually, she's a complete narcissist).

I think your shredded, faded bedsheets are romantic (you get the idea).

My Guy and I are at the stage where radical honesty is coming into play--not so much in our communications about each other, but in our communications about ourselves. Once you learn someone's geology, you see where water has pooled underground. You find the fault lines; begin to interpret the fossil record. And there is lovely discovery in this process, but also risk.

A few nights ago I was talking to my Guy about recent angst, and my self-doubts about my value in the world, and about what it means that I'm no longer as crazed and overcommited as I've been in the past. He probed around this, and, in response, I became blase and changed the subject. And later on, he talked about the origins of a deep and persistent problem, and the more I tried to unearth, the more reticent he became.

Sometimes I think to myself: fuck it. I am who I am, and if he or I or anyone can't deal with my more radical elements, well, better to know that now.

But this is only bluster; radical honesty terrifying.

Posted by Dori at 9:36 AM