TALKER’S REMORSE [R, 9-30-21]

 CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter

I shall probably regret writing this, because I am increasingly beset by “talker’s remorse,” and a lot of my talking these days is done by writing.

I have mentioned before my difficulty with phatic communication. If I meet some other walker on the street, I’m okay if he just says “Good morning.” I can repeat that. But if he adds “How are you?” I am befuddled. Should I tell the truth? But if I do the standard “Fine, how are you?” by the time I get that out, we’ll be past each other. If he actually answers, I probably can’t hear what he says. Did he say something that requires yet another comment from me? But if I just say “Fine,” without inquiring about the state of his health also, it sounds very selfish. I’ll worry about it all day.

Questions are the worst. If he leads with, “Nice day, isn’t it?” what should I say? This is a sort of improv conversation, and I know that the rule with improv actors is that you always say “Yes,” so I am sure I should agree, but to what extent. If I just do the minimal affirmative, “Yes,” it sounds like I’m blowing him off. If I get too affirmative, and say, “Yes, it’s perfect,” what if he comes back with, “Well, I wouldn’t say it’s perfect?” [I’ve had this actually happen.] Then we’re back to the already-past-you problems of talking.

It’s not just phatic conversation, though, that induces my talker’s remorse. If I’m in a group, including Zoom, and any subject comes up, I have a dozen stories that fit that subject, and I want to tell them all! Because I don’t get to tell stories very much anymore. Not in person. When I was a preacher, I had a captive audience every week, and they couldn’t talk back, taking time to tell their stories. [Well, Vic and Hazel and Lillie and “the lady from California” did, but that’s a different story.] [1] My stories are all so interesting still. To me. Because I’ve had a fabulously interesting life.

That’s not a brag or boast. It’s just the result of knowing so many interesting people. It comes with the territory of being a preacher. I have lived many places, known thousands of people, heard their stories. Those stories are worth sharing. [Not the private ones, although they are usually quite attention-grabbing.] My story is interesting not so much in itself but because I have been blessed with hearing the stories of others. Often being a part of those stories.

The problem is, even though they may not have as many interesting stories, the other people in the group want to tell their stories, too. So I realize on the way home, or when we’ve left the Zoom boxes, that I talked too much. I told too many stories. They took the time other people could have used. Yes, my stories were interesting, but that is not the sole determinant of how and how much to speak. I’m back into talker’s remorse.

I’m probably going to regret writing this…

John Robert McFarland

1] One of my favorite talk-back stories comes from when John Trefzger was pastor at First Christian in Bloomington, IL. As he preached, he asked—rhetorically, he thought—“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? A little boy responded automatically, “The Shadow knows.”