Blab: (v) to reveal secrets by indiscreet talk.
It has taken me too many years to learn to shut up.
All through my youth, I was enamored with the power of my own speech and the intelligence of the insights I possessed.
I was prepared, at the drop of a hat, to comment on hat dropping.
I felt it was my duty.
I thought it asserted my individuality.
Yet too much talk is a premature revelation of the limit of one’s intelligence.
It also quickly reveals hidden prejudices.
And it fills the room with the fragrance of one’s verbiage–overwhelming those all around with the noxious fumes.
I was guilty of blabbing.
I got too comfortable, shared secrets that were meant to be holy and made them common.
- I wanted to be smart.
- I yearned for acceptance.
And then one day, I discovered the power of well-selected silence.
I could still have the thoughts bouncing around.
I could have an inner giggle over a humorous idea that popped into my head.
But I didn’t need to make it public domain.
There’s too much blabbing in America … and unfortunately, all the speaking does not seem to increase the hearing.