Sometimes, however, the Impartial Adviser must advise herself to butt out. At the gym, for example.
"Um, you know," she wants to say to certain gymgoers, "you might get a better workout if you spent less time griping to your personal trainer about your co-workers and your boyfriend."
But the Impartial Adviser bites her tongue, because if some people are paying personal trainers to be their therapists, peace be with them too.
There are other realms in which the Impartial Adviser has realized she must practice restraint.
Like when she peeps into strangers' homes while out for an evening walk. From the dark street she can see straight into their brightly lit living rooms and rec rooms, and while she admires the taste of some occupants — even picks up some decorating ideas — there are others who could benefit from learning how to group their art instead of scattering things hither and thither on the walls. Or at least they could straighten the crooked frames.
Don't misunderstand. The Impartial Adviser is not so exacting in her own home, believe me. But that's the beauty of advice. You don't have to follow it in order to dispense it.
At the very least, the Impartial Adviser muses, shouldn't the occupants of these illuminated rooms know that the whole world can see them walking around in their underwear?
But, truly, the Impartial Adviser does not want to be a busybody or a nag, which is why she has been advising herself more often to keep these and other thoughts to herself.
As she reminds herself, give advice to others only as you would have them give advice to you, which is not much.
But a word to the wise: If you have to wonder if it's too tight, it is.