Jonathots Daily Blog
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Eunice Buell was a Sunday School teacher for the junior high class at my church. Somewhere deep in her heart, I think Mrs. Buell liked me very much—maybe even found me entertaining.
But every once in a while, I sent her into a near-saintly tirade over some of my comments. She called them crude, unwarranted, hurtful, offending—and once even went so far as to say “vulgar.”
When I said something she did not approve of, she often turned to me (while simultaneously gesturing to the whole class) and said:
“Think before you speak. That’s what separates us from the animals.”
I didn’t have the heart to correct her and say, “Animals don’t speak.”
She expected us all to understand.
We did.
And we still do. There is no place you can go where “think before you speak” would not be considered a holy axiom, possibly even found somewhere in the Bible.
Because of this, we now have politicians who polish their lingo, scrubbing it of all possibility of controversy, while inserting enough lying to make sure the proclamation has some heft.
Our religionists require blind devotion from all followers, lest someone stand up and suggest that there are contradictions, or at least confusions, dwelling in the Holy of Holies.
Our corporations and businesses hire lawyers to develop statements placed at the bottom of the product in small print to protect the stockholders and investors against all liability.
And relationships—oh, dear God—relationships are riddled with a series of phrases used to manipulate one party into performing “your will”–without ever noticing that they’re sacrificing their individuality.
It spawns from the notion that humans are capable of perfecting themselves.
We aren’t.
The theory is permitted to exist so we can maintain our arrogance. But it is the emotions in our lives that need to be spoken, even though they are often raw and uneducated.
They are the real we feel.
Certainly, these thoughts fester with frustration and can frequently be proven wrong. But when we are the only ones correcting the language in our brains, we close the door to greater revelation being afforded us through discussion.
So without trying to cast myself in the role of renegade, I challenge each and every one of us to:
Speak before we think.
And since we know it comes out as raw ore—not gold—after we speak, we should be quiet.
Listen. Register the reactions. Ponder the possible contradictions.
Then we must do something that makes the human race truly unique:
Change our minds.
As a species, we are worthless to one another and an enemy of the Earth when we are incapable of recanting our initial feelings and replacing them with common sense.
Because once we change our minds, we can speak again.
And those who know us realize that we are not only sharing the truth with them as we feel it in the moment, but we have also alerted ourselves to gain new insight—and then verbalize our fresh discovery.
Thinking before you speak turns you into a self-editor.
No good writer should ever trust himself to be the sole editor.
Speaking before you think presents the emotion and heart which very well may be overwrought or even wrong.
Yet it provides the opportunity to inform those around you that you are fully aware of your imperfection—and prepared to be a student of the planet we share.