Talk

Humans talk. That much is clear.

What I find interesting is how strong the urge is. When we experience something unusual, whether it’s beautiful or terrible, the first thing we want to do (once out of harm’s way) is to tell someone about it. Until we share it, there’s something incomplete about the experience. It’s not framed properly in our consciousness yet.

In fact, before I tell others about something that happened, I frequently find myself telling the story internally, as if I were someone else. Am I self-medicating? Fulfilling my need to tell the story even though there’s no one to listen?

Repeating a story helps to seal it in your memory, even if you only repeat it to yourself.  When you tell others, you’re helping seal the the experience in the collective memory of the group. This behavior has clear evolutionary advantages, of course, but that’s a different post (maybe a different blog?).

Interestingly, the urge is even true of dreams. “I dreamt that I was a really good jumper,” I said to my wife this morning. She didn’t care much. I hadn’t even expected her to care, but the urge to share experiences is built in, regardless of whether others want to hear.

Because it’s definitely the telling that’s important, not the listening. I could go my whole life without hearing what my wife dreamt about last night. But I would never want to give up my ability to tell her about mine. How many times have I finished a story, even after the listener’s eyes have glazed over?

I can’t see your eyes as you read this, but they’re probably pretty glazed by now. So I’ll call it a post.