Yesterday, I hit myself in the face with a tennis racket. This was not a light tap, mind

you. This was a solid smack. I was in the middle of an intense point. I overran the ball,

and I was so focused on the wind that I neglected to move my own head. I have never done this

before. And when you hit 58, you start reading into things.

Is this normal clumsiness?

Is it an early flicker of dementia?

Or alternative explanation, maybe this story is a humble brag about my competitive intensity.

I don't think that's what it is.

I think I'm sharing this with you as an offering. An offering

of my imperfections, my clumsiness, and the emerging realization that I'm a little bit afraid of

getting older. In my mind, I'm still 28, but I occasionally see my future 70-year-old self in

the mirror, and it haunts me a little bit.

Have you ever had such fears? If you and I were talking together right now, here is where you

might share a story about your clumsiness, or maybe your aging fears if you have them. And this,

this might be the beginning of a friendship.

My guest today, Leslie John, says that disclosures, initially small offerings of vulnerability,

growing in size over time, are not just useful for building trust with other people.

It's the only way it ever happens.

What I love about this is that it turns each of our embarrassments and misfires and setbacks, I have quite a few, into opportunities for connection. We've been told that oversharing,

or TMI, is a social sin, but Leslie argues that TLI, too little information, is far more dangerous.

She likens human connection to building a

fire. Each disclosure is a piece of kindling. If we don't gradually escalate the sharing,

...