There is something to be said for knowing when you have said enough. We are often encouraged to speak freely, to be authentic, and to say what is on our minds. There is certainly a time for that kind of openness, but there is also wisdom in restraint. There is wisdom in preparation, and sometimes there is wisdom in simply sticking to the script.

I have learned this from both sides. There have been times when I knew exactly what I wanted to say because I had thought about it, prepared it, and maybe even rehearsed it in my mind. Somewhere along the way, however, I decided to add a little more. Then I added a little more after that.

Suddenly, those additional words required explanations, and the explanations required clarification. The clarification opened another door that probably should have remained closed. Before long, the point that had once been perfectly clear was buried underneath all the things I never intended to say in the first place. Our mouths can take us places our minds never planned to go, and that is the danger of going too far off script.

This doesn’t mean we should never speak spontaneously. Some of the most powerful things we say are born in the moment. There is, however, a difference between speaking from a place of depth and simply continuing to talk. Spontaneity can add something meaningful when it comes from knowledge, wisdom, and a genuine understanding of where the conversation should go.

When you know your subject—when you have lived with it, studied it, prayed over it, and wrestled with it—you may be able to move beyond what you prepared because you understand where you are going. Just as importantly, you understand where not to go. That kind of familiarity gives you the freedom to move beyond prepared words without losing sight of the message you intended to deliver.

Sometimes, though, the preparation was enough. The words you chose were enough, and the point you made was enough. Even the silence that comes afterward can be enough because every quiet moment does not need to be filled with another thought, another explanation, or another attempt to make the message clearer.

I think this applies to more than speeches or presentations. It applies in classrooms, meetings, friendships, marriages, parenting, difficult conversations, and even casual exchanges where one unnecessary sentence can change the entire direction of a conversation. A person can communicate something clearly and effectively, only to diminish that clarity by continuing to talk after the point has already been made.

Of course, life doesn’t hand us an actual script for most of those moments. Perhaps, however, we can develop an internal one—a sense of where our boundaries should be before our words cross them. We can remind ourselves that we don’t have to say everything we know or explain everything we say. We don’t have to respond to everything we hear, nor do we have to fill every silence. Most importantly, just because another thought enters our minds doesn’t mean it needs to leave through our mouths.

There is maturity in knowing what to say, but there is even greater maturity in knowing when to stop saying it. Restraint does not mean that we have nothing more to contribute. Sometimes restraint simply means recognizing that what has already been said is sufficient and trusting that our words do not become more meaningful merely because we add more of them.

Preparation, when preparation is possible, allows us to speak with intention. Once we have chosen our words carefully and delivered the message we intended to give, we can trust those words enough to let them stand. We do not have to keep adding simply because there is still time to speak or because a moment of silence feels uncomfortable.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is make your point, close your mouth, and let your words stand.

Sometimes, you just need to stick to the script.

In love and charity,

Giselle (aka) Blooming-Lillie