Self-censoring is the act of abstaining from activities and statements that may cause harm, annoyance or irritation in order to maintain an optimal level of overall mental health. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of areas of self-censorship. Social media mavericks raking in cash by the carload may have you thinking that the purpose of modern life is to share every thought that enters your brain with the world. It’s not so. In fact, the less you say, the better off you’ll be. Here’s my daily regimen of self-denial.
Before I do anything in the morning, I check on my birdfeeder. No, that’s not some sort of bizarre euphemism. I actually check on my birdfeeder. By checking on the birdfeeder, I’m checking on the birds. However, on most mornings, there are no birds – only squirrels, feasting on the gourmet seed I refill each Sunday morning. Now, I could confront these rat-like creatures, dressing them down in accordance with my simple, though self-righteous belief system. Instead, I avoid conflict. I don’t say a word to the squirrels. They can eat as much as they like. Who am I to say what seed is meant for birds and what isn’t? There are birds who eat other birds, so it’s not as if the moral superiority is stowed safely in some far-off twig basket.
Let’s say it’s raining, as is often the case in April. Do I really need to roll my eyes and mutter something profane about the leak in my ceiling? No. There are entire societies and cultures that revolve around rain. They have rain dances, rain festivals, rain soirees, and rain men. The rainy season is a joyous time. Am I sacrificing that much by saying “nice day” when someone asks me my opinion of the weather?
Once I’m caffeinated, sated and hopped on the news of the day, opinions begin exiting my mouth at a dangerous pace. These aren’t the opinions I share. But I need to cleanse them somehow - exorcise them from my being. They are new and fresh each day. I write down 50 to 100 things I want to say but can’t for reasons that I can’t go into. After the list reaches a satisfactory length or my wrist begins to ache, I burn them. Doing so without a fireplace and with several smoke alarms isn’t always a simple process, but I find a way. When the words themselves are particularly incendiary, sometimes they combust all on their own. Other occasions, I shred them first to ensure maximal destruction. Once the smoke clears, I feel like a new man, fresh out of ideas.
There are people who say things you might disagree with. That’s fine, I suppose. To deal with these people is no trouble – just agree. They aren’t looking for a debate, as much as a nodding head. Frankly, you’ll make far more friends through subtle, non-threatening gestures than any clever turn of phrase.
Let’s say you’re out at lunch in a big professional setting and the boss orders a bottle of Prosecco for the table. But you hate the bubbles, remember? Honestly, you despise carbonation of any kind, having once been kicked out of Yellowstone for heckling Old Faithful. That’s understandable on your private time, but this is business. So grab a glass and drink up.
Most days end in prayer – a one-sided conversation between you and your Maker. That's all right, I guess. But since God can read your thoughts, he’s listening to a clearer feed than the NSA. No day needs you to pray. If it’s important, he’ll figure it out.
There isn’t a situation that can’t be improved by a little prudent self-censorship. You’ll see. Just don’t say anything about it. Cool? If nothing else, it's great for the skin. Nothing reduces wrinkles better than never saying what you think.
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