The Paradox of Truth: Why We Both Crave and Fear Difficult Realities
There's something fascinating about our relationship with truth. We say we want honesty, we claim to value authenticity, yet when difficult realities present themselves, we often find ourselves looking the other way. It's like we're caught between two forces — one part of us desperately wanting to know what's real, and another part terrified of what we might discover.
I see this all the time in inquiry work. Someone will approach a difficult situation in their life — maybe a relationship that's clearly ending, or a limitation they've been avoiding — and there's this moment of hesitation. The Yellow Latifa might have brought them to the edge of seeing something important, but then fear kicks in. "Let's not go there," the ego says. "It's too challenging. It's too difficult."
When the Red Latifa Says "Let's Look Everywhere"
This is where the Red Latifa comes in and changes everything. The Red Latifa is lion-hearted — it has this natural love for truth that doesn't back down from difficult terrain. When we want to avoid looking at something painful, the Red Latifa comes in and says, "Wait a second. Why am I avoiding to look here? What am I afraid of?"
It's like going for a hike in the mountains — there's something a little bit dangerous, but we're curious and we feel like going a little bit further, taking a risk. The Red Latifa brings that same courage to our psychological landscape. It says, "I want to see everything. I want to see everywhere. I want to see also the places in which I'm afraid."
"We naturally as human beings, we love the truth. We love love. We love to show up in the truth."
This might sound abstract, but think about it in concrete terms. Sometimes in a relationship, we sense something has shifted. Maybe the other person is pulling away, maybe the connection feels different. We could spend months tiptoeing around this reality, avoiding difficult conversations, behaving differently because we don't want to face what might be true.
But when we finally get the courage to look directly — when the Red Latifa gives us that lion-hearted strength — something remarkable happens. Even if the truth is painful, there's often this sense of relief. "Yes, the relationship is over." We might feel heartbroken and relieved and happy all at the same time. It's really paradoxical.
The Liberation That Comes Through Difficulty
Here's what I've discovered: sometimes we're really freed by the truth, even if it's a painful truth. We are freed. Then we can move on. The avoidance often becomes more complex and draining than facing the reality itself. When we don't look at something, our avoidance affects everything — our behavior, our relationships, our sense of ourselves.
The Red Latifa works like a sword in our experience — it can separate all the elements, discriminate clearly between what's actually happening and what we're afraid might be happening. It brings clarity where there was confusion. "This is my super-ego talking. This is what the other person actually said. This is what I'm making it mean."
What's beautiful about this essential quality is that it doesn't work only in the mind. The red heart loves the truth, loves the adventure of finding out who we are, what's really going on in any situation. And the red mind gives us the capacity to see all the elements clearly. They work together — the heart leading with courage and love for reality, the mind articulating and discriminating what's actually unfolding.
"Sometimes we're really freed by the truth, even if it's a painful truth. We are freed. Then we can move on."
This isn't about forcing ourselves to face everything all at once, or being harsh with our natural hesitations. It's about recognizing that we have this capacity — this lion-hearted quality that actually loves truth more than it fears discomfort. When we tap into the Red Latifa, we're not imposing an outcome or trying to make something happen. We're simply willing to look at what's here, to stay with whatever we find, and to let the truth reveal itself in its own time.
The next time you notice yourself avoiding something difficult, you might ask: What would it be like to approach this situation with curiosity rather than fear? What if there's something in you that actually wants to know the truth, even if it's challenging?