learning to listen

I have a big mouth.  Those of you who know me, know that I speak my mind and often don't have a filter for my thoughts.  Over the past few years, I have talked a lot.   Several of my friends can attest to the fact that I have needed to unload my thoughts on them... because I needed an adult to hear me.  
But more recently I've noticed that I HAVE learned to hold my tongue.  Not really in extreme circumstances... but occasionally... just because. 
It's a quality that I would love to grow. 

I'm not sure if I have a sign that says "safe" on my forehead, but for the past couple of weeks while I've been out and about... people are talking to me.   On three separate occasions while I was 'waiting' I've heard alot from strangers. 

A few weeks ago at the skate park, a grandmotherly lady shared her entire family history with me.  She told me how her grand kids spend the summers with her. They take turns coming to town.  The boys like to skateboard and ski, and be active.  She also went on to elaborate how her grandson had brought a friend along for the visit.  The friend's father had died several months ago.  She told me all about his family and explained how the visit was probably a good way to get his mind off of things.
ALL of this info....
I just nodded my head and smiled.  I easily could have explained how my kids' father is also dead and how much they enjoy staying occupied as well.   But I didn't feel the need to share.

On another visit, a younger gal at the skate park, with her six year old son, went in to elaborate detail about her living arrangements, her single parenthood, and her health history.   She is traveling to Virginia Beach to visit with a homeopathic doctor who is helping her treat Limes Disease.   Being a single parent, it's been hard for her to keep up with her son while she has been ill.  Thankfully she is feeling much better these days.   
ALL of this info....
I nodded and smiled.    I didn't feel the need to tell her that I was also a single parent, or that my sis-in-law is a homeopathic doc.

The third encounter was much different.   We had just followed a dude on a motorcycle all of the way to our doctors office.     Upon registering at the desk, the dude immediately asked, "Were you behind me when I stalled out at the stoplight?  Thanks for not running me over."  And I replied, "yes, that was me.... I always look out for bikes because my husband was killed in a motorcycle accident" 
(and I'm thinking to myself.... "oh crap, Jill.   Don't open this can of worms!!)
The dude was hooked.  He needed to know all about Thayer, his bike, the accident, etc.   Even the receptionist joined in with a comment about how her ex-fiance was injured in a motorcycle accident.  We all agreed, many times, that bikes are dangerous..... but people who ride, love to ride.  Overall a nice chat with a stranger... but totally not a conversation that I generally initiate these days.    I've learned, over time, that when I initiate the topic of Thayer's death everyone stops in their tracks and their eyes get sad and droopy.    I was actually thankful that this dude wasn't afraid to ask the tough questions.  Not everyone is brave enough to seek the details, but I think he felt a kinship as a fellow rider.

All of this to say... I notice that I am learning to listen to others as they share their stories...
but ya never know when I'm gonna blurt out crazy.