"Unless you have a secret, in which case, that would be really fun."

"Its such a lie that we should all do what's in our hearts. If we all did what was in our hearts the world would grind to a hault."

Why so often are the things we say so in contrast to the things we do? Do we not believe our hollow words, do we want to believe them or merely think we should say them? Is what we do the truth or is what we say the truth and the actions are lies?

I discovered recently why I abhor inconsistency in others so much: it is a secret character flaw in myself. I always thought I was someone who said what they meant, did what they say and didn't have the energy of my two faced counterparts. There's was the struggle for a semblance of truth, a doubleminded hodge podge of this way or that, hesitancy, doubting each choice and step. I go where I want, I do what I desire.

One day I realized the infection of doublemindedness was a plague I seemed to stumble upon. Whether or not I was the culprit or a subject of circumstance was yet to be determined . But I did something I never thought I would and where guilt should rest, instead intrigue slept. Had I become what I'd despised? Or are we all sufferers from the two way thoughts? Had I become enlightened or was my enlightenment besmudged?

The verdict was still out.  But all judgement aside, I felt very much alive.  And what more can one search for?