Words are fierce creatures. They have to be, I guess, to be in with a chance of surviving into the next generation. There is such an array of words to choose from, and if they don’t get picked often enough they’re out of the dictionary. Begin to form a thought in your mind, and it gets inundated with words offering themselves as just what you were looking for. Some people cut through the onslaught so swiftly you’d never guess any thought process had taken place. They present compelling arguments crisply, then sit back to read your response as it is forming in your head. Their expectation freezes you like a rabbit in headlights. All the words are scuttling away into the curtains of your mind. What do you do?
a) You spew those words that didn’t get away fast enough, improvising some form of structure as you go along. You’re working so hard you don’t notice you’re not actually making much sense. At least you keep talking. Nothing worse than silence.
b) You take on a relaxed, pensive air, pulling away from the gaze just long enough to summon sensible words and arrange them carefully, but not so long it looks like you are clueless. Then you make your point and project your expectation onto your opponent. Score.
c) You return their gaze with a highly interested expression. Soon the well-spoken people will feel compelled to elaborate. Clearly you enjoyed their expose so much you want more. While you half-listen (you got their point the first time) you prepare your response and you win points for being a star audience.
Other people seem to enjoy trying out various ways of making their point out loud, never quite settling on one. It could be they are incapable of deciding which words best describe their intent. Or maybe they don’t bother understanding their audience, so they simply see what works.
Then there are those people who have a clear point in mind, but feel compelled to make endless detours on the way. I’ve often wondered whether they do this so that when their point isn’t well received they can tell themselves it doesn’t matter because at least they’ve had a nice conversation, or whether they are actually scared to make their point.
I detest having to sit through the clutter in other people’s minds. Give it to me straight, so we know where we stand. And if you have nothing to say, don’t say it.
Forgetting is bliss, I have come to realise. I no longer worry about it. On the contrary, I relish and cultivate it. Forgetting allows my mind to sift the fluff from the meaningful, the horrible from the warming. It means I don’t necessarily have to get wound up about the bad stuff, I can park it in the “forget it” lot. It also means I don’t always have to forgive: I can choose to forget instead. Which makes me feel a whole lot better. I don’t want to forgive people who have done horrid things to me, but I won’t let them win by having them ruin my happiness either. Forgetting is the perfect solution. If they have been truly horrible I trust my memory to jig me if I ever were to cross their path again. Just in case I have an opportunity to return the favour. Should I want to. I am not sure I would want to, but I like to keep my options open.
Forgetting is also plain practical. By only remembering the important things I can unclutter my mind and find the information that matters more quickly. I admit that I tend to make a note of very important things – hell I even set reminders for the must-dos. That is not cheating: it is relieving my mind and telling it not to worry. Belt and braces. Mind can’t do wrong – relax.
I can tell you with my hand on my heart that I have never, so far, forgotten anything that really mattered. I have lost lots of trivia on the way, but that just means I can rediscover them as new should I ever come across them. Of course I wouldn’t know it wasn’t the first time.
I read that the mind hardwires circuits it uses frequently, making those paths top of the list in your mind. It is a virtuous circle, and it provides scientific proof for my empirical advice. So, try the forgetful strategy or ignore at your peril.