…long live the conversation.
Like human beings and most things organic, conversations also die. Sometimes they die a natural death – sometimes they are killed; they die nonetheless. And not surprisingly, denial is often our common reaction when a conversation dies.
We don’t want it to die. Because it is such a beautiful thing, we want more of it.
Well, at least those of us who like a good conversation.
Because we have to be someplace else, a conversation dies an untimely death. Harsh words or heated arguments inject poison in an otherwise nice conversation. Then there those conversations which aren’t nurtured with interest and these malnourished ones die too.
And then there’s a conversation that is dead for a while, but we keep it on life support. We say things that we should not be saying, at least in that conversation. We have hopes that it will revive and come back to life with a little bit of external support. What we think of as medicine, becomes poison. We prolong the inevitable.
Conversations have a life of their own, apart from the people who have them. And they spring back to life, easier than we imagine. And the next conversation may be just around the corner. We need to develop some kind of zen-like detachment from them, for they are always reborn in a fine cycle of never-ending life. We need to let conversations end when they want to, else we are denying the rebirth of another conversation.
The conversation is dead, long live the conversation.