Dearest Darling Friends,

A dull truth will not be looked at.
An exciting lie will.
Unfortunately, this is the truth.

Truth is often served like a bowl of plain rice. Nutritious, filling, even life-saving. But served without flavor. Hence, most people push it aside.

Lies, on the other hand, arrive like a sizzling platter—smoke, spice, and drama. They may poison you, but oh, how tempting they look when they land on the table.

This is the tragic irony GOOD people must wrestle with. Their truth, no matter how noble, often dies in silence if it doesn’t sparkle in its telling. A good deed that isn’t made visible is like planting a tree in the middle of a desert—no shade, no fruit, no one ever comes near.

The world is not hungry only for truth. The world is hungry for stories. And truth wrapped in dullness is like a diamond buried in mud—it never finds its way into anyone’s pocket, let alone their heart.

I have seen this play out endlessly. The most brilliant teachers, entrepreneurs, or parents often fail not because their truth is wrong, but because their truth is boring. Meanwhile, the loudest voice in the room, sometimes peddling half-truths or glittery illusions, gets the crowd. Painful? Yes. Real? Absolutely.

So what do we do? Do we join the circus of exaggerations? Do we dress lies in sequins and sell them as wisdom? No. We don’t need to abandon truth—we need to make it exciting.

Truth needs music. It needs metaphors. It needs the theatre of imagination. When you narrate your truth, don’t just state it—paint it.

Instead of saying “teamwork is important,” tell me about the flock of geese flying in perfect V-formation, saving each other 70% of their effort by drafting behind one another.

That picture will never leave my head.

Instead of declaring, “gratitude matters,” tell me about the man who wrote daily thank-you notes for a year and ended up with more friends than he had made in his entire life time. That’s truth, told profoundly in a way the heart can’t ignore.

The job of the ‘good person’ is not just to live the truth, but to deliver it in a way that sings. A good truth, when told well, doesn’t just survive—it multiplies.

So the next time you speak your truth, ask yourself, “Am I serving plain rice, or am I creating a feast that people will never forget?”

Truth deserves better than being boring. Dress it with data and stories and imagery. Watch it create impact by walking straight into people’s hearts.

With love, prayers and best wishes,