Walking the Talk

The words of Edgar Guest’s creed “To have no secret place wherein / I stoop unseen to shame and sin; / To be the same when I’m alone / As when my every deed is known / To be without pretence and sham / Exactly what men think I am” go to the heart of what I believe integrity is – to be honest, straight and honourable in all our dealings and doings, whether or not anybody knows about it. The thing that matters is that we know we have done the right thing for the right reason.

But there is more to it than that. I used to be a librarian, so the first thing I do when I want to find out what something means is to turn to a reference book, in this case The Concise Oxford Dictionary. The dictionary defines integrity as “wholeness, entirety, soundness, uprightness, honesty”. It means adopting a whole heart and soul approach to our lives, so that we do not detract from our spiritual wholeness by any mean action or thought. This is a lot harder than it sounds – most people (and I certainly include me in this) often fall short of this ideal, and compromise our standards of what we know to be right.

I think that integrity means more than this, however. To me, the most important part of that definition is “wholeness”. For example, you can talk about a machine or building having ‘structural integrity’, which means that all the parts of it fit together in the right way and work together. Going back to people, it means striving towards the best we know, acting consistently according to what we believe is right, and not allowing ourselves to deviate from this standard. In this way, our whole selves, body, mind and soul, can have integrity and wholeness.

Acting with integrity also involves thinking for yourself. Abraham Lincoln famously said: “I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. / I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to the light I have.” This implies making a judgement about what you believe to be right and true, and then sticking to it, no matter what anybody else thinks. Personal integrity is not cheap – it means refusing to compromise when you are told to do something what you believe in your heart is wrong. It means following your principles, at whatever personal cost. It means putting what you know to be right above what you would like to happen.

Being part of a silent majority is the easy way out in our society. It means that you keep your opinions to yourself, or grumble to your friends, but don’t speak up or act if you believe that something is wrong. I am uneasily aware that I do much less than I should to right the perceived wrongs of the world: I am a member of Amnesty International, but I do not write letters or take part in protests, as members are urged to do. I am a member of Friends of the Earth, yet I do not consistently use green products or make every effort to save energy. In other words, in those areas which I fall short of the standards I perceive to be right, I lack personal integrity.

You might say “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. You don’t do so badly. You do your best.” But do I? Does anyone? If we truly believe that acting with integrity is of paramount importance, it ought to apply to every area of our lives, not just when it’s easy or convenient to do so.

The Journey Towards Authenticity

I have always loved the bit in the original Bridget Jones film when everything has gone wrong at her dinner party - her soup was contaminated by blue string, and her orange sauce turned into marmalade - but her friends toast her health "To Bridget, who we love, just the way you are."

 To be loved "just the way you are" is the most precious gift. And to live as your authentic self is the richest, most rewarding, and possibly most difficult, way to live. The theme of this year's Hucklow Summer School was "The Authentic Self: Discovering the Real You" and it was a good, deep, stretching week.

This becoming who you really are is a long process, full of risk and danger. But also full of light and joy. It is something which tends to happen more as we approach middle-age, than earlier on in our lives, unless we are lucky. In the first half of life, we tend to be preoccupied with growing up, finding our place in the world, establishing a career and a family, or close group of friends, and then settling into that unique niche, which we have carved out for ourselves.

And that is good. I'm not saying for a moment that this first half of life work is not necessary - it is vital. By the time we are approaching middle age, most of us will have a particular position in the world, a particular identity, particular roles, whether in the workplace or outside, and will be identified by particular labels. My principle labels and roles as I started this inward journey were "mother", "wife", "librarian", "Unitarian" and "runner".

This second half of life journey towards authenticity and wholeness is about the attempt to become whole, about being the same "you" wherever you are, and whoever you are with, rather than cutting your cloth according to your circumstances. And it's about doing a lot of shadow work, about digging deep to discover the real you, the open and vulnerable person behind the façade you have spent so many years carefully building. And then working out how to integrate that authentic self into the real world out there.

It's a tough call. And not for the faint-hearted. But it is so worthwhile. It is about waking up and becoming aware of what you are doing and where you are going; about taking responsibility for your own choices and values; and about working out what is important to you, and then living it.

Like I said, it's a tough call.

But luckily, there are many tools and wise ones to help us on our journeys. Such as an empathic spiritual director, a loving Unitarian congregation, and some wonderful books, such as, in my case, Richard Rohr and Andreas Ebert's Discovering the Enneagram, Richard Rohr's Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, and John O'Donohue's Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong. All three have had a catalytic effect on my journey.

The words that work for you, or the teachers that will influence you will probably not be the same as mine. This is not a journey for the faint-hearted ... it can (and probably should be) quite painful and uncomfortable. But to discover who you really are, "with unique flaws and gifts" as Forrest Church says, to start to discover your authentic self, is immensely rewarding. It is the work of a lifetime, but each step we take towards authenticity, and away from the masks and concealments of our old lives, enables us to make real connections with other people, and to be at peace with our whole selves. And that is precious.