I read a column last week of a dutch writer who claims she is tired of discussing everything that happens in her life. She feels a lot of her friendships exist from talking, analyzing, concluding, complaining and listening to each other. To the extend that she hears herself speak the exact same sentences to different people. I recognize that very well, and although I never named it like she does, I stopped ‘having coffee’ quite some years ago, because I felt  there was no use anymore in talking about my life. I felt my life was becoming a story, something that had to fit in a point of view, and often before I had figured out what the situation or the emotion I was in was all about. I heard myself talking more about my life than I found moments to think in peace about that life. So I became more private and more silent, it felt naturally. But now I come to the point that I am so silent and so still within that I start to look again at the value of sharing. What is sharing? What is sharing your feelings, your story, or even your life? After being silent and alone for so many months, I miss other people. I miss laughing about the silly side of life. I miss helping each other out, baking cakes for one another and sometimes – just talking about what is going on in your life. Just to have the feeling that there is someone who knows how your heart is doing and who can make you laugh about it!