Now this is not a question or an attempt to get a response from those who connect with me here. It’s a personal evaluate on why I think I talk too much. And this takes me to places previously untraveled. In asking questions of family and friends I truly want to know more about them, sometimes more than they are willing to reveal. In that attempt and in order to soften the interrogation I start to talk about myself. That’s where it goes wrong. Maybe.
Silence is not something dear to me, especially in the car or at the dinner table. Just the other day I rode in the back seat of our daughter’s van on the way to a doctor’s appointment. No conversation ensued from the front seat, so I started something. Printed on the outside of one of Becky’s shopping bags I found some trivial questions. The front seat had to supply answers. They had not asked for conversation. I had to do so. Then one Sunday at dinner I interjected my thoughts about our Sunday school and worship service. Earlier my son-in-law had asked for my opinion, but I had more to say. And, of course, I asked for their observations. This also interrupted their talk about the Colts’ game coming from the TV in the next room. But the younger generation seems to give time for their granny, and I’m grateful.
Conversation should be give and take, making room for everyone present to participate. That’s another reason for this blog called Connections. Feedback is desired, but so far it’s too often a one-way street. I’ve now contradicted my opening statement. I do want response. I do want to connect with my readers, to know if I’m hitting any targets of interest, or at least aiming at them. I want to talk (to write), but not too much.