Diadochus of Photiki offers us a very concrete image: “When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good. Thereafter the intellect, though lacking appropriate ideas, pours out a welter of confused thoughts to anyone it meets, as it no longer has the Holy Spirit to keep its understanding free from fantasy.  Ideas of value always shun verbosity, being foreign to confusion and fantasy. Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wildest thoughts.”

These words of Diadochus go against the grain of our contemporary lifestyle, in which “sharing” has become one of the greatest virtues. We have been made to believe that feelings, emotions, and even the inner stirrings of our soul have to be shared with others. Expressions such as, “Thanks for sharing this with me,” or “It was good to share this with you,” show that the door of our steambath is open most of the time.  In fact, people who prefer to keep to themselves and do not expose their interior life tend to create uneasiness and are often considered inhibited, asocial, or simply odd. But let us at least raise the question of whether our lavish ways of sharing are not more compulsive than virtuous; that instead of creating community they tend to flatten out our life together. Often we come home from a sharing session with a feeling that something precious has been taken away from us or that holy ground has been trodden upon.

—Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers

“We speak about the events of the world, but how often do we really change them for the better? We speak about people and their ways, but how often do our words do them or us any good? We speak about our ideas and feelings as if everyone were interested in them, but how often do we really feel understood? We speak a great deal about God and religion, but how often does it bring us or others real insight? Words often leave us with a sense of inner defeat. They can even create a sense of numbness and a feeling of being bogged down in swampy ground.  Often they leave us in a slight depression, or in a fog that clouds the window of our mind.”

—Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart: The Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers

“Before you speak, ask yourself: is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?”

—Sai Baba