Let me begin with myself as a writer. Then as a reader.

I sometimes write very personal stories in which I make myself vulnerable, show my negative sides, and reveal the processes I'm still trying to learn from.

My aim might be the inability to escape self-reflection, or sharing my experiences so others might gain something from them. But it could also be seeking understanding and comfort from others, or actively searching for answers and input.

I can make my intention clear in my writing, but that doesn't always happen — and the story doesn't always lend itself to it. People reading my story are left to guess what they should do with it.

Some will take my writing as information, while others may feel compelled to offer me advice. I have no control over that — not even if I've clearly stated my intention.

When I entrust my words to Medium, they're no longer mine alone. My story quite literally flows through the ether.

I can't expect to receive good advice, nor can I expect to receive none at all. My readers get to decide whether they respond and how. Even if they respond unkindly, there's little I can object to.

If I'm walking down the street, I also can't tell everyone around me to keep quiet.

All we have in common is a culture with unwritten rules about treating each other with honesty and goodwill. Most of the time, that works — sometimes it doesn't.

We have no control over how others follow those rules, even if we can sometimes point out that 'the rules' have been broken. And when we do, we're often talking about our own rules, not so much 'the' rules.

Communication and interaction between people is just about the trickiest thing there is in life.

I'm glad when someone — sometimes unsolicited — engages with me and offers valuable advice from their own experience. If that advice isn't good or doesn't work for me, I have the choice to do nothing with it.

If someone withholds good advice from me, I miss a valuable lesson I could have learned. So I'd rather someone tell me 'something' than always stay silent. Of course, it's exhausting if people constantly talk nonsense at you.

That leaves the question of how to view comments under a personal story that are disruptive or undermine what you're trying to convey.

Say you give excellent general advice based on personal experience, advice many people could benefit from — but a reader's response casts serious doubt on it and counters it with opposing advice. Then you just have to accept that.

That's life. Compare it to people filling meaningful silences because they too really want to say something.

Perhaps even that has a purpose.

As a reader, I'm on the other side

Others also write personal stories, or they let personal matters show through in their articles. As a reader, I can have an opinion about that — after which I must decide for myself whether to respond.

Do I give advice, and if so, how?

Advice as acknowledgment and perhaps comfort is a mild form of interference. But even that can already feel disruptive to the writer. Should I let that bother me?

The other extreme is to reopen the wound that's been shown and rub medicine into it. What is the right thing to do, and what is needed in the evolution of all life?

Every action can be of immense significance for the evolution of humanity.

We often think in isolation, but everything is connected to everything else, and in fact, all of life is deeply spiritual. There are no coincidences — everything has a purpose.

That we meet each other — for better or for worse — has a purpose.

If we keep quiet or don't respond, that is also a certain action, as opposed to speaking up or responding.

Perhaps the purpose of humanity (in the evolution of life) is precisely that we must learn this. Learn to sense when we should act and when not. Through trial and error. Learning the hard way.

We learn the most by making mistakes, by being clumsy. Action teaches us something.

That's why we write, after all, those personal stories.

My view, therefore, is that I'd rather respond than keep my opinion and experience to myself. What remains is that I want to consciously choose how I respond.

But I don't find that very daunting either, because if I respond 'incorrectly,' then apparently that's how it must be. Not that I want to, but I have no control over the other person's emotions. After all, that person always has the choice of how to deal with my 'incorrect' response.

I don't want to hurt someone else, but in fact, I can't. That person can only hurt themselves. Not many people understand this principle and firmly disagree with it. If this applies to you, I invite you to really think about this. Truly reflect — don't just stay in your defensive trench.

Of course, I weigh my responses, because I hope others will genuinely benefit from them. My goal is to foster growth in awareness. In myself, and in others. If they want it and are open to it. No one has to unwrap my 'gift.' It's a gift from me, but it doesn't have to be one for you.

The criterion is my heart. Am I responding from my heart or from my ego? Is the intention for the other person, or is there something in it for me?

Do I dare to doubt my own truth? Is what I say or write my truth that I want to impose on someone else, or is it something I want to share, offer, and ask about? Could my truth also be something for you?

Am I lifting a corner of the veil — or confronting the soul with what I perceive?

My experience is that I can't, or can hardly, think this through. I have to do it from my heart, because my heart is always right in hindsight. The more I think, the more often it 'goes wrong.' That in itself is a practice and a learning process.

So sometimes I'll only respond with a 'well done' or 'I struggle with that too.' Other times I make people cry or terribly angry. Apparently, that's what's needed then. If it happens purely, then it's (sometimes only in hindsight) always the best that could occur.

You'll have experienced this yourself, because my experiences are by no means unique.

We learn to communicate from our heart, while our thinking wants to keep interfering.

During this process of trial and error, we also learn what loving interaction is. And, funny enough, we especially learn to read and listen with love. Someone else takes the trouble to engage with us, he or she gives us attention.

This can make us strong, confident, and wise. That is within our own control.

I know, of course, that there's a downside. A danger of indoctrination. Even harm. Can you avoid this?

If we all try to be overly sweet to each other from our thinking, do you believe we ever truly learn to live from our heart?