Yesterday I realized that I’m no longer that person who feels the need to be heard. A friend wrote something in her Facebook profile which sparked a somewhat heated religious debate. I offered a few words but didn’t bother to follow it up with what I thought were smart rebuttals. Three people were at it already anyway, so I decided to sit back and enjoy. I never thought such a spectacle could be so entertaining.
Ten years ago, such an exchange of very opinionated ideas wouldn’t end without me giving the last word. It used to bother me that people who believe something so wrong could be so stubborn. I tried to be open-minded while really I was as stubborn as they were.
Over the years I have slowly evolved into someone who accepted the opinions of others without giving out biased comments. In a sense I was more forgiving of other people’s thoughts and in the process learned a lot about my own. But I was still out there telling people how I feel and how I think. I couldn’t stand to be silent. My thoughts needed to breathe and so did I.
Yesterday, however, I was pleasantly surprised that I was no longer itching for people to hear what I have to say. I was no longer obssessing about how to make an argument without being obnoxious. I figured there were other venues for my thoughts to breathe other than in a public forum where everyone merely wants to outwit everybody else.
Debates have always been a draw for me. I believe in the passionate exchange of ideas because iron sharpens iron. But cutting and undermining each other is not healthy at all. Good thing I have learned to get away from those kinds of iron before their rust rubs on me.
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