Good morning from Milano. I’m sitting here enjoying my morning time and I’m noodling two different things. They’re entirely unrelated. One is about holding my tongue and the other is about not having an answer to a question. Oh, just as I was just saying that, I realized that it also has to do with holding my tongue.

Anyway, the first one came up because there were two incidences over the last week, both of which totally infuriated me. In both cases, I wrote nasty messages and refrained from hitting send. It’s funny, in both instances there was cause and reason for me to be upset, and I certainly had the right to express my distress and my anger over the situation. I’m sharing this not because I want to give myself a pat on the back, though I do want to give myself a pat on the back if I’m honest, it’s not what it’s about.

It’s about the fact that I was able to catch myself. Even though I was in the right, I realized that while I may get that gratification and burst the stress bubble in the moment by sending the emails, ultimately both things were going to be better served by me being reasonable and rational. These people knew that they had not delivered. They knew they were in the wrong, and  I felt like by withholding lashing out – withholding my anger – the more likely outcome was that they would step up to the plate and go above and beyond on what they were meant to deliver. The reason I’m sharing that is because an email just popped in and it was one of those, oh my gosh, all’s well that ends well. It is something that has been hanging over my head for years and it’s finally over. I was just sitting here thinking to myself  Yeah. It’s really good  I held my tongue and didn’t hit the send button on nasty messages.

The other thing I’m thinking about is this. I was with my friends the other night, and I think I’ve mentioned that everyone keeps asking me things like  how long will you be there? Where are you going? And those people that are more aware of the fact that I’m not answering questions may say something like I know you might not you know yet, but do you have any inclination of where you might be going? Anyway, you, you get the idea. People are always asking me what’s next.  Then at dinner the other night, my friend Enzo looked at me and he said, why are you leaving? And, quite frankly, I didn’t have an answer. It’s interesting because when people ask me these questions, I usually make a joke about it. I don’t know yet. I’m waiting for it to be revealed Or I’m sticking to the plan. That’s to have no plan. I have to say, his question left me a little bit stumped, and I held my tongue and didn’t answer.

You know, I guess I’d say that one of the things I’ve been unlearning is this idea that I always have to have an answer or an explanation. It would be easy to say to me oh, you don’t owe anybody an answer, you don’t need to have an answer, but we live in a culture where someone asks a question and we generally respond. I’ve been deflecting the questions with I don’t know, I’ll figure it out. But in this case the question why are you leaving really did leave me kind of stumped. And I have to say, I was able to just sit with it. I did not respond. I held my tongue.

I’m sharing this because it’s an important note to myself. You know, I love those notes to self, and I guess this note to self would be think before you speak or think twice. I don’t know, but I do want to remember what it feels like to hold back, to hold my tongue, to not offer an immediate answer because I feel pressured to do so. It was a rhetorical question. Why do you have to leave? He didn’t push me on it. He wasn’t looking for an answer. I didn’t have to answer. It was mine to live with as a rhetorical question, and it did make me think.

So that’s what I’m sitting with today. Holding my tongue, letting things sink in. I’ll leave you with that until next time from my heart to yours.