Chirping clearly
How to speak the truth without losing your filter
Should we not be open, honestly communicating all the time?
Chris Williamson recently asked Alain de Botton this question. You can listen to Alain’s answer here.
Here’s my answer.
The problem with honest communication is that it assumes three things.
You know yourself well enough to tell the truth.
You’ve looked under all the rocks, turned on all the lights and swept up all the cobbled alleyways.
Your psyche is a sparkling shopfront, and it’s open for business, at least for the people close to you.
You believe that sharing your private stuff will be a positive thing.
No harm. No consequences. No hurt feelings.
3. You think you’re able to communicate that bit of information properly.
Honesty without self-awareness is just noise
There’s always Myna birds hopping around outside my apartment.
I noticed something interesting about these birds.
They always chirp just before they take flight.
Hopping around, pecking at the grass and then you walk past a little too close and suddenly they let out a loud chirp and fly off.
They can’t help let out a little chirp.
I don’t know if they are scared, or excited, or communicating with their friends.
But they always do it.
And so do we.
“I hate it.”
“You made the wrong choice.”
“You’re fucked, I reckon you will lose your job.”
Chirp.
Chirp.
Chirp.
I used to think that saying the first thing that came to my head was spontaneous, free and part of who I was.
I felt proud to ‘tell it how it is’.
But it’s hard to do the opposite.
Really hard.
…any one can get angry- that is easy- or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for every one, nor is it easy…
If Aristotle struggled with it, so will we.
In our most unvarnished and unfiltered, what we are doing is not that different than the Myna birds and maybe more damaging.
A friend pulls out of a race because her bike has a mechanical issue.
I want to say: Nice excuse!
Chirp.
But waiting a second longer reminds me of the hours and hours we have spent riding together and all the hard work they had put in.
I actually say: I’m sorry.
And I mean it.