Yak, Yak, Yak
“It is better to remain silent at the risk of being thought a fool, than to talk and remove all doubt of it.”
Maurice Switzer (“Mrs. Goose, Her Book”)
We seem to live in the Golden Age of inane, arcane, hot-air-producing, brainless chatter. Social media has opened up “Pandora's Box of Blather,” and loosed the greatest out-flowing of stupid rhetoric in the history of humankind. Everything from our President's idiotic 3 a.m. tweets, to his beleaguered Press Secretary, who just couldn't stuff his foot any further down his own throat if he tried, to people commenting on their hot new hairstyle, their 1970 prom dress, or their new summer toenail color, as though anyone else on earth is interested. It's distressing, and depressing, and, honestly, just plain sad.
But it's more than that; we all talk too much—myself included. We talk nonsense and opinion, and in doing so, expose our grave ignorance of almost everything. I'm speaking for myself, of course. I tend to opine, and pontificate and, in general, run my mouth about things I have no business commenting on at all. I wonder about you—do you do that, too? Talk just to talk? Are we really so proud of our ability to form words that we feel compelled to produce them every minute of every day?
What if each of us were to declare a one-day moratorium on speaking. A designated day devoted to silence. What might we discover? Is it possible that we use speech as both a deflector and a weapon? Could it be that we hide behind it, and use it to shield whatever part of us is soft and vulnerable? With a day of silence, we might discover that within us is a field of solitude, a peaceful resting place, where we need not batter others with our words, nor be battered by theirs. A sunny, windswept country of quiet, where we might regain our sanity and our common sense.
In the Spirit,