Some things are better left unsaid.
I would have never subscribed to this theory in my younger days.
I am by nature a compulsive talker. Granny use to call me motor mouth or mouth all mighty, tongue everlasting.
My talkative personality is a gift and a curse. It took until adulthood for me to realize that.
Getting the last word is like a silent victory for me. And I always have to get MY point across, be it wrong or right.
My mother called it talking back when we had arguments. I saw it as stating my case.
Perhaps realizing silence is golden at an earlier age would have saved me from some spankings. But speech was silver, and I preferred that anyway.
Senior says I love to hear the sound of my own voice. He’s one to talk. Where does he think I get it from?
Every Lawson seems to love to chat it up. A simple five minute conversation can last for hours.
Naturally I inherited that trait since I take after my dad’s side.
But lately I’ve been trying not to talk as much.
Maybe it was because of my friends tuning me out on phone conversations.
More than once I have finished my latest rambling to find them not listening to a word I said.
“Are you even listening?” I asked.
“No, I started tuning you out,” they respond.
I would get mad, but I do know I can go on way too long.
Or it could be because my boss has told me on several occasions I am too chatty.
She doesn’t say it in a mean way. It’s just I tend to talk a lot at the wrong time: namely deadline.
Asking me one question can lead into a lengthy dialogue. Even my co-worker has pulled out the quiet game on me.
Furthermore, how can I forget the many times I’ve come down with the dreaded foot-n-mouth disease?
I often respond first and think later. That usually doesn’t have a good ending.
But I think the real reason I’m deciding to keep mum it because I wish some people just wouldn’t say anything.
As one of my friends would say, “Well if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black.”
My thoughts on communication are funny like that. I know what irks me, and yet I do the exact same thing.
In recent weeks, I’ve had two instances where people gave me some long, unnecessary explanation filled with useless information.
“This and this caused that and the other, yada yada yada,” they said.
I feel like Sally from the musical “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.” On more than one instant I’ve wanted to respond with her classic, “Why are you telling me?”
It wasn’t like I initiated it.
For what it was worth, they could have kept the comments to themselves. At least wait for the question and answer session.
I guess they just wanted to “state their case,” too.
Ask me if I care. Heck, no!
Can we say hypocrite?
I am already guilty of many faults: pride, wrath and even occasionally sloth. I for one don’t want to be a hypocrite anymore.
What goes around comes around. So if I don’t like something, maybe I should stop doing it too.
When it’s all said and done, maybe I should just be silent.
And that’s MY new philosophy.