The Whole Truth...

For a variety of reasons, I retired three years ago at age 51. The reason I give people depends upon the circumstances and context of the conversation. This doesn't mean I lie about it. It just means I rarely tell the entire story.

I had career, health, social and financial issues that led to my decision. So, if I am talking with someone with an awareness of health issues, I might mention how my health contributed to my early retirement. If we are having a discussion about the lack of ethics in the business or corporate world, I may cite those factors for leaving. These and the other factors are all true -- they just may not all be relevant to the current conversation. And I doubt that many people would want to hear my tale in it's entirety, anyway.

The reason I mention this is because it occurred to me that most of life is like this. Unless you are ordering dinner, most questions cannot be answered with a simple yes or no. Life is more complicated than that. And few answers incorporate everything we know, think, feel or suspect about an issue. We are more complicated than that.

So when we are watching the nightly news, and we hear an inflammatory sound bite, it usually doesn't mean any more than someone taking your picture while you are sneezing. That's not what you really look like. And the sound bite seldom reflects anything more than the reporter's personal bias on that particular issue.

How many times have you had an argument with someone and both of you were convinced you were RIGHT and that the other person was a JERK? Then, when you both calmed down enough to actually talk with each other, one of you ends up saying, "Oh, I didn't realize all of that." And the spat was over.

This idea is responsible for the epigram Walk a Mile in My Shoes. Because if we took the time to metaphorically do that, we would have far less arguments and misunderstandings. But we live in a world that has become increasingly shallow. People seldom want to hear the entire answer -- no more than we are inclined to give one.

As a result, we may never get to know who people really are. Or even care. Listening has become a dying art. Which saddens me because I have a lot of stories to tell.