Jan 20

Jan 20 Keeping Your Own Counsel

keep (one's) own counsel

To not share one's thoughts or plans with others. I'm just naturally a private person, so I keep my own counsel.

I am blessed with a nurturing, Irish-born mother-in-law. This woman is the true matriarch of the family (whether she sees it that way or not), and her influence and love is felt by all. She has several sayings that we all have found ourselves repeating at one time or another. 'If the cat had kittens it would be my fault too.' Or my personal favorite, 'For fuck's sake.' But the one that has floated through my head over and over is 'Keep your own counsel, Deb.'

When I first heard this phrase as a young woman in my early 20s I remember feeling shame. Had I shared too much? Was that a 'bad' thing to do? I would ask myself that question for nearly 20 years until the pivotal wake up call of turning 40.

(What is it about turning 40 and literally waking up and feeling like everything has changed? I have had many women tell me that they felt this same phenomena. It's as though the entrance to the fifth decade of life is a doorway out of the fun house, where the mirrors are no longer distorted and you are finally able to truly see the face and the body before you in all its flawed perfection. Men, did you feel the same shift?!)

I had an epiphany very soon after turning 40 that I didn't have to keep my own counsel if I didn't want to, dammit. And in fact, I found that being raw and honest helped me form tighter bonds with those around me. Look, I'm not saying that this works for everyone, and I'm not saying that there aren't some aspects of my life I'm going to keep to myself, but generally speaking I think sharing ourselves on a deeper level is one of the greatest tools we have to connect us humans to one another and make us feel less alone. I can't tell you how many times I have heard or thought to myself, 'I thought it was just me,' when engaging in a conversation that scratches beneath the surface with someone. Sharing the pieces of ourselves that are messy and imperfect can be incredibly cathartic and healthy, and forge the path to a deeper friendship with or at minimum, a better understanding of someone.

The other night I attended an event for a new charitable foundation called 'Hi, How Are You.' If you're from or have visited Austin, Texas, there's a good chance you've seen artist and musician Daniel Johnston's iconic mural of 'Jeremiah the Innocent' with this important question painted next to him.