We Could Use a Dose of Integrity Right Now

Personal integrity is the key to creating trust, fostering hope and communicating effectively

Integrity definition: noun: 1. The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles, moral uprightness. 2. The state of being whole and undivided.

How can you tell when someone has true integrity, instead of faking their way through it? The first quality you will immediately see is a high level of honesty. This is a person who takes responsibility for their actions, even when they are wrong. They choose to do the right thing. If you’re checking out a public figure, look at the track record of their actions, rather than their words. Actions are the rapid path to revealing individual character.

We know we’re not holding our own integrity when we throw out a few white lies, hoping the situation will go away. Or someone is deceiving you and you pick it up in their body language and words. Either way, it doesn’t feel good and our bodies record it all.

Truth telling is a two way path. If you’re willing to dish out honesty, you must also be open to hear any and all feedback about yourself. Individuals with integrity offer benefit of the doubt, granting others a chance to express their opinions and respecting who they are. They agree to disagree in a way that doesn’t discount the belief system of others.

A person with integrity shows respect to everyone, no exceptions. They are never rude to people in service positions and value what everyone has to offer from their unique point of view. They make no assumptions.

They are good for their word and accountable to their promises. There is a favorite phrase of mine that pops up in period films during the 1800’s. The scene usually depicts two men discussing some kind of issue and coming to a conclusion with “I give you my word.” A handshake often follows and the two part, knowing their agreement will be honored. Imagine that level of integrity manifesting in our modern world. A world where we stand by our word.

People walking in integrity value kindness and frequently demonstrate it toward others. They are aware of cogs in the wheel and seek to diffuse difficulties they encounter, knowing this action is necessary to forward movement.

There is a distinct lack of integrity in our politics and government, with U.S. currently winning first place in the NO medal award. Outright lies, uttered daily by this administration, were shocking to the public at the beginning of our descent into a new form of madness. Notorious claims were presented as fact, even if they came from a proven, pussy grabbing President. He didn’t really do that, right? He won’t be able to get away with it, right? Just watch.

The level of dishonesty has reached a fevered pitch. We are becoming immune to the latest outrage. Images and material in media are distorted to the point we can’t even perceive what is real, from those which are manipulated.

This aberration of reality is creating riptides of fear. Who can we really believe? Lies lose their impact when we are continually inundated by their outpouring. Americans now expect our President to lie. It seems to be his favorite form of ruling his empire of one. We shake our heads at the latest overshare from the Emperor wearing no clothes. We know he has never pronounced the word integrity in his ‘sad’ vocabulary. He is not to be trusted, even by those in his inner circle.

The trickle down effect of poor integrity has reduced our culture to the worst possible scenario. We are buying guns by the droves. Can’t trust anyone out there? Better pack that piece because you never know, after all, what a person could do. You want to be prepared. Owning a gun is your safety measure.

When purchasing a gun, one of conscience must disregard the disturbing statistics. The kids killed when they discover one at home, or in the car and start playing around, imitating violent games on their devices. Gangs mowing each other down, innocent people caught in their crossfire. It happens in our cities daily, to the point where we are over saturated with grief and despair.

Have you ever had a loaded gun pointed your way? I have and the first thing I realized was, my life depended on the consciousness of the person aiming it at me. Not a sparkly thought. Here’s my true story.

In 1975 I was traveling through Mexico with a buddy, on the way to South America. We hitched into Puerto Escondido on the Pacific coast and became enchanted by the sleepy, Southern town. Paradise on a pristine beach, a cheap spot for our hammocks and savory seafood meals. We decided to hunker in and stay a week.

Every morning we hit the beach, going for long swims and satisfying our hunger afterward by splitting a ripe orange papaya, the size of a football. On the fifth day of our stay, I emerged from the water famished, threw a blouse over my swim top and headed barefoot to the fruit stand, located on the beachfront. Locals, also in swim wear, came and went as we all selected and paid for our fruit.

On this particular day, the vendor started to hand my papaya over but stopped and told me I should turn around. A young soldier was aiming his rifle directly at me. The crowd had melted away, swiftly and silently. The soldier motioned with his gun, not speaking one word, indicating I should start marching. The vendor advised me to go. They were well acquainted with violence, murder and general mayhem. I had no choice.

The soldier and I were a spectacle to behold as we trooped down four blocks of town. I was incredibly uncomfortable in my swim bottom, scrutinized by every man I passed. The young soldier was infatuated with his power and visibly swelling with bravado. If I walked too slow, he pushed the muzzle into my back.

We finally arrived at our destination, the police station. As we entered, I endured more full body scans and lingering gazes from fully armed men. The Chief was not in. I was told to wait for his return, again with no explanation. I turned to face a window, eliminating frontal exposure.

Chief walked in 20 excruciating minutes later. The young soldier was eager to offer his sacrifice to his superior. I couldn’t hear, but watched his animated explanation of my presence. He was met with instant anger. Chief grabbed his arm roughly and pushed him into a side room. I could hear him ranting. After a five minute diatribe, he hastened to my side and informed me I would not be fined. There has been no transgression. I was free to go.

Now I knew I was safe, I was really upset. “What is my crime, according to your soldier? He pointed a loaded rifle at my back and forced me onto the street without a reason.”

Chief took me aside to an empty room so he wouldn’t be overheard. “He couldn’t control himself when he saw your swim bottom. You have a few pubic hairs showing and it drove him crazy. You must be sure this never happens again. It’s very easy for Mexican men to lose their minds when seeing such a ‘thing’. They can be driven to rape and horrible acts of violence. You must make sure all is in place.”

I called on the Gods of personal integrity. Help me navigate this insanity. Stop the sarcasm before it bursts forth. No, I will not mention how reassured I now felt. Ah, its Mexican men with these bestial thoughts. Once I cross the border into Guatemala, I won’t have to deal with male, hormonal dis-regulation. Should I remind Chief I had been swimming in turbulent waves and didn’t notice my few stray pubic hairs at the fruit stand, alongside so many other offenders?

I took another look around the station. Every man had multiple guns in holsters. Thanking Chief for his words of wisdom, I ran back to the beach composing the eulogy at my funeral. “If only she had waxed her pubes, she would be here amongst us today.” Sob. My bewildered, distraught friend had been searching the beach, wondering where I had disappeared to. As I recounted my story, we both shuddered in horror at what could’ve happened if I had resisted.

I tell this absurd story to reinforce the fact that guns lead to trouble, especially if we have lost control of our emotions and are no longer operating within reason. There are few incidents of weapons saving lives, compared to reports of lives they take. I’m not talking about hunting and feeding your family, a valid reason to use a rifle. I’m talking about moving on the streets, carrying a weapon that can turn lethal, one heartbeat away.

It happens all the time. And yet, what’s our solution? Buy another gun and plenty of ammo. It could run out with all those customers waiting in line. And it’s easy, anyone can get a gun, if they really want one.

We Americans are demonstrating this paranoid, self serving, dangerous use of weaponry to the rest of the world. Can we start engaging our personal integrity, instead of reaching for a weapon? Can we learn how to use language to describe our concerns and get to the roots of our dilemmas, rather than pacify ourselves with a false sense of security?

Let’s start being more honest with each other, even at the risk of exposing our vulnerabilities. We don’t have to tolerate gun violence because we think we can’t control it. Other nations can and do, so we must cast our gaze to their methods and not use our constitution to justify our suspect choices.

This action requires a motivation to elevate your own personal integrity. A willingness to be responsible, honest and kind to yourself and others, as much as possible. We can return to a state of wholeness and well being with right thought and action.

If we’re all holding integrity, we won’t need to hold guns.