There was a misunderstanding the other day. I did not correct it, and I feel bad about that, even though it was a very small and trivial misunderstanding.

My mother and her cousin had been discussing grey hair and whether they dye it or not. My mother’s cousin is very smart and well dressed and her hair is a marvel of the hairdresser’s skill, being a wonderful harmony of silver and ash blonde.

At sixty-three, I am rather proud of the fact I have no grey in my hair at all and I said so. “Oh,” said the cousin, “I thought you had highlights.” 

I misheard her and before I could catch up on what she had said replied, “No – it is all natural.”  Well, of course I have highlights. And then, as my mind processed her words, I felt dreadful. It was a small thing, but it has stayed with me for a couple of weeks.

I hate telling lies. “What a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive,” is a saying that resonates with me. Apart from anything else, I don’t have the kind of mind that would remember the lies I’ve told, so I’m bound to get caught out.

Another thing I’ve done, but only once, is to put a reduced label on something that was already out of date but that I had missed on the last check that I did. I put the reduced sticker on it, so it looked as if I’d found it the first time round and it had just been missed on the “Round up,” where the items reduced for that date are removed from the shelves and put in the reductions bay. I did it to make myself look good – or rather, not to allow myself to look incompetent - and I’m ashamed of that.

There are other lies of course, those white lies of social politeness. “Do you like my new hairstyle?” is one such invitation to lie. In that circumstance to say, “No, I think it looks awful,” would be at once unkind and rude. Even to say, “It’s certainly a change,” is not what is expected or desired in that case. One has to say, “I think it looks really good,” and comfort oneself with the thought that what looks good to one person may look bad to another, and that it is only a matter of opinion anyway.

What about when you are caught out in a lie? The embarrassment must be excruciating and the relationship between you and the person to whom you have lied will be damaged, perhaps irrevocably. 

What do you think of lies? Are they ever acceptable? Are there white lies and black lies, and what is the difference between them? How sensitive is your conscience when it comes to dealing with what is untrue? And, if you catch someone else out in a lie, how to you react?

Mary

A Moodscope member