In an attempt to pass time over break (refer to my Issue 8 article on why being on vacation makes time seem to flow like molasses), I read “Cat’s Cradle,” by Kurt Vonnegut. In the book, Bokononism is a fictional religion practiced by the narrator. The religion is pretty strange, but then again, are there any that aren’t?

A key concept that all devout followers of Bokononism accept is “foma.” It means “harmless untruths.” Foma isn’t necessarily the white lies we tell our friends to avoid hurting their feelings. Foma is more powerful and omnipresent, with long-lasting effects. Vonnegut’s example: “Prosperity is just around the corner.”

Surprisingly, the followers of Bokononism embrace foma with open arms. The creator of Bokononism warns the followers that their religion, the system in their lives that gives them meaning, is built on a fragile foundation of untruths. But they knowingly engage in the foma anyway.

That got me thinking.

It’s safe to say that as a society we want answers. We crave the truth. We look at solutions as though they’re glowing embers, and with just enough of them, plus a bit of care, they can be stirred to spark something enlightening.

But we shouldn’t fool ourselves. We love to lie.

As I looked around with new, Vonnegut-influenced eyes, the more I saw “foma” in my everyday life. Believe it or not, untruths are everywhere: tucked behind a grandmother’s praise, underneath a teacher’s advice, or mingling with a politician’s best intentions for the greater good. They’re even hiding in plain sight.

The first foma that I noticed came from my sister. We were talking about the careers we envisioned each other pursuing. As we were thinking about the future, imagining lives that we haven’t yet led, we both decided that we wanted to have a somewhat significant impact on whatever field in which we ended up working. We wanted, as cliched as it may sound,  to “be remembered.”

The truth is, 99% of people’s existences are basically forgotten within three generations. Unless you are one of the bigwigs like Einstein, Darwin, or Shakespeare, in a couple centuries most will be an unrecognized thing of the past. Depressing, I know. Have your doubts? Tell me the name of your great–great–grandparents.

But, it was the foma of believing that our lives would timelessly matter that made my sister and me hopeful and excited for the future.

I continued to see the same trend with all the accepted untruths by which I lived my life. Like true love. Soulmates. Santa Claus. Or even the phrase, “hard work pays off.” Call me a cynic, but the idea that we all have a specific someone out there made just for us is pretty warped. Or even that putting a cocktail straw in the proper waste bin will ultimately play a part in the earth’s five billion year future. My personal favorite: that everything happens for a reason. Something tells me that that’s not always the case. Some things in life just take a little more effort to believe.

But that’s okay. Actually, it’s more than okay. In fact, in a way, everything depends on these suspensions of disbelief.

Those little nuggets of untruth don’t just give us the myth of Santa Claus. There’s something that comes from the foma that we live with. Something good. Something that made my sister and me start blissfully planning for a renowned future of “being remembered.”

The foma we carry with us distracts us from the harsh truth.

We humans live a dark existence. Mankind sucks sometimes. And our circumstances are not ideal. We live in a very lonely galaxy in the middle of nowhere… occupying a random spot in an even more lonely and vast universe.

In perspective, we are merely a speck, suspended in a boundless space so complicated and old that even our smartest, most clever minds can’t seem to grasp its inner workings.

And for that very reason, foma is crucial. It makes our reality, and all the anxiety that comes with it, less overwhelming. It helps us get out of our comfort zone so we can try to find our soulmates. It energizes us to take risks in efforts to “be remembered.” It inspires us to have compassion for one another in the attempt of “making a difference.”

Don’t get me wrong– too much of our fomas can be bad. Little, harmless untruths can spiral into big ones. Any history book can tell you that. There’s no doubt about it: they are fragile.

But even still, foma is the armour we suit up in as we trudge our way into battle every day. The war? As cliche as it sounds–Life: with all of the uncertainty, chaos and victories it brings.

Maybe people don’t even realize their believing in foma. But its’ existence is a fundamental part of ours. The little fomas in our everyday life lead us to the good stuff. Courage. Bravery. Hope. Kindness.

And what’s more true than that?