The thing about information is once you share it, it’s no longer just ‘yours’. You’ve passed it on, you’ve copied the key. You select who you share it with, but by doing so hope, pray, that they will treat it with the same security you do. You hand over the key and hope that they don’t find another locksmith. Hope they act as a guard to the castle, not a tour guide.
The story and details will never be the same coming from another’s lips. They can’t. All their background, experience, and bias slowly morphing it into something else. Morphing it into their own.
When you pass on information, it’s no longer yours.
We don’t pass out copies of our house key without strong consideration, but our hearts, our minds, our goals, and fears, those keys seem to be cut much quicker. Maybe not something huge, maybe not our deepest darkest secrets, but the locks keep turning, one by one. Soon, you don’t know who holds a key or the dreaded copy of a copy.
It’s far worse than telephone, being known, or assumed to be known. Telephone there’s hesitation, are you sure that’s what was said? You get to the end of the line… hesitate… announce what you heard… but safely add a question mark. When people hold a key, they assume it works, it’s right, it’s been cut by machine. There’s no static, no wires to be crossed.
I’ve had to learn that copying keys is no safe business.
Seek gatekeepers, not tour guides.
Catherine with a C, Katie with a K 