Speak only after your words have managed to pass through three gates. At the first gate, we ask ourselves, “Are these words true?” If so, we let them pass on; if not, back they go. At the second gate, we ask, “Are they necessary?” At the last gate, we ask, “Are they kind?”
“I have a really bad habit—my mouth flies open before my mind gets engaged. I've always been like this; I guess I've always thought of it as part of my charm—I can be a very entertaining conversationalist. But lately I've begun to notice that I have also left a lot of wounded people in my wake.
I guess what finally woke me up was when my witty retort sent my younger brother running from the room in tears. He's fifteen years younger than me and has always looked up to me. In retrospect, I'm ashamed to admit that all this time I just accepted his adoration as my due and never even considered the responsibility I owed him. My ‘clever’ comment devastated him and there is just no excuse for that. I apologized to him later that day, but I think now I need to go back and thank him, because his reaction finally convinced me that I need to close my mouth at least long enough for my mind to catch up.”
Kindness is found not just in actions and in words, but also in inaction and silence. We may not often think about that because it's hard to notice. After all, if someone bites his tongue and doesn't make a cutting remark, we will never know we could have been hurt but were spared by his kindness. If we all used kindness as a “speech barrier,” much less negativity would be verbalized. Of course, because people are all wonderfully imperfect beings, we will make mistakes and say things that we don't mean out of hurt and frustration. If we are the receiver of such misguided barbs, we don't have to react to them with equal venom. It is so much kinder if we simply choose to let them disappear without reaction.
