A Synthesis of Integrity

Like braiding threads of truth.

I am healthier and in better shape than I was when I was thirty and yet my body hurts most of the time. My internal rally cry to myself at this mid-forties place in my life is…

Commit with integrity.

Whether it’s about doing a bench press, a new business venture, house design or a good job parenting– my goal these days is to try to do whatever I do with integrity.

Integrity, however, is not one thing.

I used to think about integrity as a singular kind of essence, the core or center or heart of something.

But it occurred to me this morning as I embarked on my umpteenth squat with a bad knee and tight hips that integrity is NOT one thing.

There is, of course, integrity of the movement itself.

But even that is subject to the body engaged in it. None of us have the same body, proportions or strength in any one given area.

And the physical is only a small fraction of the strength or flexibility or balance we are experiencing at any given time.

How and where we bend is different.

Not to mention why.

And that too changes, even for the individual. I used to exercise to burn calories so I could either get super skinny or eat more chocolate. Depended on the day.

Now, I exercise to feel strong, to generate endorphins that help my chemistry stay better balanced, to burn through anxiety and worry before it has a chance to move in like a low-hanging fog.

And to hopefully live longer and stronger for our kids.

Integrity is always and never the same.

The threads of the braid may change. The design of the braid may change. The number of threads being braided may change.

But the threads themselves are always made up of individual truth.

To stick with my squatting metaphor (as unglamorous as it is), today, I tried to braid together the truth of good form, my body’s limitations, the music’s rhythm and my body’s desire to flow with it.

But at the same time I was also consciously weaving in the truth of my feeling both incredibly strong and fragile too. Braiding together my wandering thoughts and a wider awareness.

It’s not conscious. Yet it’s not unconscious.

I toggle back and forth between all these things and a meta-awareness of it all together because, for me, it is all deeply interconnected.

If I push away any of it, I suffer. It’s all interconnected. It may look like a bad knee but it starts with my hip, which may be tight because of a gripping sadness, which only grips harder when I refuse to allow it in.

And my knee is the least of it (though it feels pretty bad). My ability to truly feel joy is held hostage by this unreleased sadness.

I used to prefer compartmentalizing it all.

Seemed cleaner, neater, easier and way the f’ less vulnerable. But I remember feeling lost a lot– inside my head, my heart. I knew where I was standing, but not who the “I” was that was standing there.

Now for better or worse, I know my “I”.

I keep braiding the threads though because that “I” is always changing and I don’t want to get left behind.

I think maybe integrity is integrating the complexities of personal truth.