The ancients used to say that God was “simple”, in the sense of wholeness, without parts, just simply being. We strive for that, trying to be coherent and consistent in our words and deeds, and not divided, but fully present in our attention to others.  Here is a nice story from the Zen tradition which shows what it would be like to be genuine in our words and relationships.

When Zen master Bankei died, the old blind man who used to sit outside the temple said how sad he was. ‘You see, since I am blind I cannot watch people’s faces, so I judge their character by the sound of their voices. And it is this way. When most people are given the news of another person’s good fortune or success they, of course, congratulate the fortunate person, but virtually always beneath the words of gladness, I hear another note, a secret note of envy, envy that it is not they themselves who have been so fortunate. Again, when most people are given the news of some calamity that has befallen another person they, of course, express their sorrow towards the afflicted person, but virtually always, beneath the words of sorrow, I hear another note, a secret note of pleasure and satisfaction that it is not they themselves upon whom the calamity has fallen. With Bankei, however, it was not so. When he expressed gladness at another’s good fortune all you heard was gladness. When he expressed his sorrow, all you heard was ­sorrow.’