This account concerns an earlier difficulty that I have resolved, not my present ability to communicate.
A question could bring an ocean of information into my mind: facts, connections and all the explanations needed to understand those connections. I had only one mouth and could send out only one line of words at a time.
It was like trying to suck an ocean dry with a straw.
In secondary school, I became notorious for long lectures on almost any topic. I also wanted to show off. Knowledge was one way I tried to obtain acknowledgement from a world in which I often felt unacknowledged. Having little idea how else to express myself made the combination socially disastrous.
Answer the question before explaining the universe
Before speaking, I felt that I had already discarded most of the information. I was giving only the main points, as quickly as I could make intelligible words. Yet I rarely finished even half of what I intended to say.
My selection process was still organised around everything connected to the subject, rather than what this listener needed now.
A more useful starting question is: what will the listener understand or be able to do after my answer? Someone asking how to connect a computer to the Internet may need the next three actions, not the history of communications.
Give that answer first. Then ask whether an explanation would help. For example: “This setting is stopping the connection. Change it here. I can explain why it matters afterwards.” The explanation is still available without becoming an entrance fee to the answer.
Close the side doors
One topic often seemed impossible to explain without another. Discussing the Internet could take me into information theory, computer history or even chimpanzees, because I wanted to contrast aspects of human perception with those of our close relatives.
Each explanation opened another side door. Soon I was lost in an endless shopping centre of concepts and data. My listener heard a digression; I was trying to supply what made the answer intelligible.
I learnt to close those doors and return to the point, sometimes using notes or a prompt from the listener.
An outline can reserve a place for a connection without requiring me to follow it immediately. Write the main question at the top, keep the few points needed to answer it underneath, and place interesting side subjects elsewhere. A thought is not lost merely because it is absent from this conversation.
A useful prompt identifies the route back: “How does that answer the original question?” It is more actionable than a general complaint that I talk too much.
Choose a channel that fits the information
I imagined transferring thoughts directly, as computers send data through a fast connection. The human voice seemed absurdly slow and linear.
Speaking faster does not give the listener more time to process what I am saying. If the problem involves several relationships at once, a diagram or short written explanation may work better. The person can inspect a connection without having to remember every earlier sentence.
Writing has its own limit: a long message can reproduce the same flood. State the conclusion near the beginning, group related points and distinguish what needs a response from material supplied only for reference.
The aim is not to empty my mind into another person’s. It is to establish enough shared understanding for this exchange.
Sharing needs room for the other person
Not every conversation is a request for instruction. A person may be sharing an experience, seeking company or mentioning something without inviting a lecture.
Ask what kind of response would be useful. When sharing an interest for enjoyment, check that the other person wants to join in. Leave room for their knowledge and questions rather than using every pause to restore something I omitted.
A listener stopping the discussion does not establish that my subject has no value. It may mean that they have enough information, little time or a different interest. I can find a more suitable setting without requiring this person to validate everything I know.
A successful conversation may leave most of the ocean untouched. What matters is whether the part I shared reached somebody.