What You're About to Learn
- Why some people are great at talking but terrible at stopping
- How to tell when a conversation has run its course
- Why religion and politics can ruin an otherwise good evening
- How your spouse may be trying to save your social life
- Why the best guests leave before everyone is tired of them
I struggle with this.
I really do.
A lot of people think I am not a very social person. In some situations, they are absolutely correct. If I do not particularly like the people I am around, I become extremely talented at being quiet, looking at my phone, finding an excuse to leave, and going home.
It is almost a superpower.
I can shut down a conversation, locate my keys, say goodbye, and be halfway down the road before anybody realizes I have left.
But if I like the people I am around, everything changes.
If I am comfortable with you, enjoy your company, and feel like I can be myself, I become very social. Sometimes too social. I start talking. Then I start telling stories. Then one story reminds me of another story, which reminds me of something that happened in 2007, which requires fifteen minutes of background information for the story to make any sense.
Before long, I have turned a casual conversation into a documentary series.
That is where the trouble begins.
Sometimes I talk too much.
Sometimes I talk about things I probably should not talk about.
Sometimes I stay on a subject long after everyone else has mentally left the building.
Sometimes I embarrass my wife.
Sometimes I physically stay too long and need to go home.
This is why I believe one of the most important social skills a person can develop is knowing when to shut up, when to change the subject, and when to gather your belongings and go home.
That may not sound like an inspirational life principle, but it is.
People who possess this skill are social superstars.
They know how to participate in a conversation without taking it hostage. They know how to tell a story without turning it into a hostage negotiation. They know how to make people laugh, contribute something meaningful, and then stop.
They do not wear people out.
Nobody sees them coming and thinks, "Oh no. We are going to be here for four hours."
They leave people wanting more instead of leaving people looking for an emergency exit.
That is a skill set.
Some People Talk. Other People Take Prisoners.
There is an enormous difference between being interesting and refusing to stop talking.
Most of us believe we are being interesting.
We think the room is captivated.
We think everybody is hanging on every word.
Meanwhile, three people are checking their phones, one person has started cleaning the kitchen, somebody else is slowly moving toward the door, and your spouse is staring at you with an expression that clearly says, "Wrap it up."
But you do not wrap it up.
You assume your spouse is encouraging you.
You think the look means, "Keep going. They love this."
It does not.
The look means, "Land the plane."
Unfortunately, some of us respond to that look by adding another twenty minutes of material.
We say things like, "That reminds me of something else."
No.
Nothing should remind you of anything else.
The story is over.
You have already had your turn.
Release the people.
You Have to Read the Room
Reading the room is one of the most valuable abilities a person can have.
It means paying attention to more than your own desire to speak. It means noticing facial expressions, body language, eye contact, tone, participation, and whether anyone is actually asking follow-up questions.
If you are talking and people are engaged, looking at you, laughing, responding, and contributing, you are probably doing fine.
If you are talking and people are staring into the distance like they are waiting for rescue, it may be time to stop.
If someone checks their watch once, that may mean nothing.
If everyone checks their watch, you may be the problem.
If people repeatedly try to change the subject, let them.
Do not drag the conversation back to your topic like a determined Labrador retrieving the same wet tennis ball.
Let the subject die.
Not every thought needs to be fully explored. Not every opinion needs to be defended. Not every story needs to be completed.
Sometimes the most socially intelligent thing you can say is absolutely nothing.
Religion, Politics, and Other Excellent Ways to Ruin Dinner
Religion is important to me. My faith is a huge part of my life. I enjoy talking about God, the Bible, church, theology, and the deeper questions of life.
But even with something as important as faith, you still need to read the room.
There is a difference between having a meaningful conversation with someone who is genuinely interested and cornering somebody who was only trying to eat a hamburger.
You can usually tell whether people are interested.
They ask questions.
They engage.
They offer their own thoughts.
They lean into the conversation instead of leaning away from you.
But if people are giving one-word answers, looking uncomfortable, or repeatedly trying to talk about college football, you may need to change the subject.
You do not have to compromise your beliefs.
You just need to understand that forcing a conversation rarely produces anything good.
Sometimes you plant a seed.
Sometimes you answer a question.
Sometimes you share what you believe.
And sometimes you shut up.
Politics is even easier.
Do not talk about politics with your friends.
There. I just saved you three arguments, one awkward Thanksgiving, and a Facebook unfriending.
Unless you know for an absolute fact that your friends share your politics—and possibly even then—politics is often best left alone.
People do not usually discuss politics because they are eager to reconsider their beliefs. They discuss politics because they want to explain why they are right and why everyone else has lost their mind.
That is not a conversation.
That is two speeches taking turns.
There are exceptions, of course. Mature people can disagree respectfully. Thoughtful people can learn from one another. Good friends can sometimes have difficult conversations without destroying the friendship.
But you had better know your audience.
You need to understand the difference between healthy disagreement and repeatedly poking a sleeping bear because you enjoy hearing yourself talk.
Nobody Cares
One day, I was riding home in a car with my wife and one of her good friends.
They were in the front seats talking to each other. I was sitting in the back.
There was a break in the conversation, and I decided this was my opportunity to tell a story.
It was not.
I started talking, and they started talking to each other again.
I waited.
Another break came.
I tried again.
They continued their conversation.
I made at least a couple of attempts to enter the discussion, and every attempt was swept away like a folding chair in a hurricane.
Eventually, I accepted reality.
Nobody wanted my story.
Nobody had requested my story.
Nobody was waiting for the backseat guest speaker to deliver prepared remarks.
So I finally shut up.
When we arrived at the house, I got out of the car and simply said, "Nobody cares."
That was my closing statement.
I was not necessarily angry. I was mostly acknowledging what had just happened. I had attempted to introduce a story into a conversation that had no available opening, no demand, and no interest.
The market had spoken.
Nobody cared.
And honestly, that is an important lesson.
Sometimes nobody cares.
That does not mean nobody loves you.
It does not mean your story is terrible.
It does not mean your thoughts have no value.
It may simply mean this is not the time, place, or audience.
A mature person recognizes that.
An immature person starts the story louder.
The Best Guests Leave
There is also a physical side to knowing when to shut up and go home.
You have to know when the evening is over.
Some people understand this instinctively. They arrive, enjoy themselves, contribute to the gathering, thank the host, and leave at a reasonable time.
Other people wait until the host is wearing pajamas and turning off lights.
The host will start giving signals.
They may say, "Well, tomorrow is going to be a long day."
That means go home.
They may begin gathering cups and throwing away plates.
That means go home.
They may stand by the front door while talking to you.
That means go home.
They may say, "We really need to do this again."
That does not mean stay another hour.
It means go home.
Do not force your hosts to fake their own deaths to get you out of the house.
Leave while they still like you.
That is the secret.
Do not stay until the energy collapses, the conversation dies, and everybody is sitting in silence trying to remember why they invited you.
End on a high note.
Professional entertainers understand this. Good speakers understand this. Great salespeople understand this. Smart guests understand this.
You should stop before people are tired of you.
Silence Is Not Failure
Part of the reason some of us talk too much is that silence makes us uncomfortable.
When there is a pause, we feel responsible for filling it.
We assume something has gone wrong.
So we grab the first thought that enters our mind and throw it into the room.
But silence is not an emergency.
You are not required to repair every quiet moment.
Sometimes people are thinking.
Sometimes they are tired.
Sometimes the conversation has naturally reached its end.
Sometimes nobody has anything else to say.
That is okay.
You do not have to restart the entire social engine by telling a story about a guy you worked with twenty years ago.
You can let the silence exist.
You can take a drink.
You can smile.
You can listen.
You can ask someone else a question.
And yes, you can go home.
Ask More Questions
One of the easiest ways to avoid talking too much is to become genuinely interested in other people.
Ask questions.
Not interrogation questions. Not questions designed to give you an opportunity to talk about yourself again.
Real questions.
How is work going?
How are your kids?
What are you excited about right now?
How did you get interested in that?
What happened next?
Then listen to the answer.
Do not spend the entire time they are speaking preparing your next story.
Do not interrupt them because something they said reminded you of something far more interesting that happened to you.
Let them finish.
People generally enjoy being around those who make them feel heard.
They do not necessarily remember every brilliant point you made. They remember whether you seemed interested in them. They remember whether you listened. They remember whether the conversation felt balanced or whether they spent the entire evening trapped in the audience of The Clay Eavenson Show.
I am working on that.
Your Spouse May Be Your Emergency Warning System
My wife is often very helpful in letting me know when I have reached the end of my social runway.
She can tell when I am talking too much.
She can tell when I am entering a subject that does not need to be entered.
She can tell when the people around us are finished but I have somehow found a second wind.
Sometimes she gives me a look.
Sometimes she says something subtle.
Sometimes the subtlety disappears.
The wise thing for me to do is trust her.
Your spouse often sees what you cannot see because you are busy speaking.
They can observe the entire room while you are focused on finishing your point.
So when your spouse touches your arm and says, "We should probably get going," that is not the opening round of a debate.
Do not say, "In a minute," and then launch into another story.
Go.
Your spouse is trying to save you.
They are protecting your reputation, your friendships, and possibly your life.
Leave People Wanting More
The goal is not to become silent, withdrawn, or afraid to speak.
The world does not need fewer meaningful conversations.
We need people who can tell good stories, make others laugh, discuss important ideas, and bring energy into a room.
But the best communicators understand limits.
They know when the story is over.
They know when the joke has landed.
They know when the subject is becoming uncomfortable.
They know when someone else deserves a turn.
They know when the party is ending.
They know when to shut up and go home.
That does not make you boring.
It makes you someone people want to invite back.
People will love you more when you talk just enough.
Not too little.
Not too much.
Just enough.
Make them laugh. Tell the story. Share your thoughts. Say what matters. Listen to other people. Watch their reactions. Notice when the energy changes.
And when you realize you are pushing your limit, stop.
Do not introduce another subject.
Do not tell one last story.
Do not explain why you are leaving for thirty minutes while standing at the door.
Pack up your stuff.
Find your keys.
Tell everybody you had a wonderful time.
Then shut up and go home.
