Speak Now

Sometimes I open my mouth (or click "reply") when, maybe, I should stop and reflect instead. I don't often take the time to ask myself if I'm prepared for the can of worms I'm fixing to open; instead I get out the can opener, rip the lid off, and release the squirmy little bastards right out into the wild.

Sometimes it might be better not to have a room full of worms. They are squishy and hard to get out of the carpet. Sometimes it might be better to stop yourself before you pick up the can. I mean, I don't DO that? But maybe I should.

Maybe.

Or maybe not.  Because even though I feel like I spend a lot of time picking up worms, I also think that there's something really valuable about speaking up and out.  To be honest, there are days when I feel like I invented the concept of "see something, say something" because most days I just don't have the ability to keep my yapper shut -- but I think that, if I see something that's a mess, or that's just plain wrong, and I don't say anything, I'm complicit in whatever is wrong. If I see something unjust and I don't speak up, that makes me part of the injustice; what happens when no one speaks up? What happens if no one says anything?

I guess I'd rather tiptoe through a room filled with squirmy slimy worms than risk never saying anything.

So hand me the can. I'll get the opener out of the drawer. And let's get this party -- questionable as it may be -- started.