Translating the Ordinary

Oversharing used to seem to me an attractive option – genuine, transparent, authentic. And, indeed, for a while I was a habitual oversharer, prone to baring the contents of my soul to anyone who came within spitting distance. But lately, I have come to have more regard for privacy and discretion – that is, for keeping the more personal details of life, well, personal.

To break open into great detail concerning the trials of your inner life to someone who knows you only slightly (or even to someone who knows you moderately well) can leave you feeling like you’ve given away something that you shouldn’t have. It also tends to leave you with lots of well-intentioned advice which you can’t use or don’t want.

The thing is – the matters a person struggles with in the depth of the soul are often complex, and require some context to be understood fully, or appropriately. Someone who does not know you, and your soul, may try to make a judgment or steer you in a direction that misses the mark. As a result, it’s easy to walk away from these encounters feeling frustrated and misunderstood, and possibly even more confused than before. Not to mention, the people you’ve confided in – your unwitting audience members – can end up overwhelmed with more information (and more emotional trappings) than they bargained for.

Not that I’m recommending complete silence, or keeping everything to yourself. Not at all. It’s wonderful if there are a few trusted individuals you can go to for help, for listening. This is very good. But these should, most of the time, be people who care for you deeply and who can listen nonjudgmentally and with some understanding (as much as is possible) of where you’re coming from.

Choosing how much to share with others is a matter of degree. Painting in broad, or even very broad, strokes may be a good strategy much of the time. Thankfully, that doesn’t mean limiting yourself to shallow or trivial conversations. You’d be surprised at how much depth can be borrowed from personal experience, and translated into interesting and mutually instructive dialogue, even when the precise details of that experience are omitted. Of course, if inspiration strikes, you can share more. Sometimes it’s counterproductive to try to tamp down the questions and thoughts that are bubbling up within. Sometimes the best thing is to thoroughly and completely spill over.

But, all in all, the thing I’m advocating for is more wisdom and discretion in choosing what to share, and what to withhold (or save for another occasion). Is this what they call “prudence”? It’s an old-fashioned word, and one that usually makes me wrinkle my nose in dislike, but the virtue it represents might not be so antiquated or undesirable after all.