Child's Play & Bird Brains

There was an old owl who lived in an oak.
And the more he listened, the less he spoke.
The less he spoke, the more he heard.
Why can't we be like that wise old bird?
I happened to open a book of nursery rhymes at the bookstore where I work on the first day of my "speak no evil" experiment. (See previous entry.) The above nursery rhyme was the one that turned up. Upon arriving at work, I had completely forgotten about my vow, and then a bit of child's verse reminded me of my mission. I've made it my mantra ever since. This rhyme used to be told to children as a reminder that they should be seen and not heard. (How Victorian!) But there is deep wisdom in those words that is useful to people of any age. When I consciously follow the advice in this seemingly innocuous children's rhyme, there tends to be less conflict, less discord.
I guess you can tell that my recent promise to myself still preoccupies me. In fact, it's a full-time fixation. In order to be successful, it has to be, because it requires constant awareness. I hope it's not complaining to say that I slip up every now and then. Sheesh. However, my recent rediscovery of this little gem has given me something to chant to myself when I'm inclined to say something that isn't constructive, upbeat, or at least neutral. So I often find myself walking around and muttering the little rhyme to myself, or suddenly blurting it out loud, much to the befuddlement of others. Sure, I end up looking like an odd bird, rather than a wise one, but I figure that's better than being objectionable.
I've also learned that by not saying anything that's negative or unkind, I'm talking less, of course, and more importantly, listening more. So how do I know when to speak? There is a Native North American saying that answers that nicely. Speak only if you can improve upon the silence.
- G. P.