This week, I find myself wishing that people would be careful with their language. Mindful, watchful in what they’re saying. Anticipating impact, particularly in important conversations, particularly with people like me, those afflicted with whatever it is that sears some words on the brain for days and weeks at a time. Is this going to hurt? Does this word convey just what it is that I want to? The weight, the meaning, the tone? Better yet, does this even need to be said? We’re all too accessible to one another, and words don’t carry with them the intention they once did. In the good old days, naturally, the ones in which Wilford Brimley may or not have been a looker, the ones predating both idiotic LOLs and presidents. Using words with intention is becoming a lost art. Like macramé.
I’m a firm believer that the desire for funny sets us up for this in a way that other conversational pressures do not. Humor creates a demand, requires a timing, that pulls words out of us. Do you know funny? I think I do most of the time, the times in which I’m not sullen and brooding and drinking Yellow Tail through a coffee stirrer, and when it’s really funny, it’s effortless. The thought and the statement are almost simultaneous, riding a tandem brain bike, if you will. When both riders aren’t perfectly in sync, things can go terribly wrong, things like feelings getting hurt without resolution, things like rosy-cheeked kids eating King Cones being sliced in half by your Schwinn. Very bad things like that.
I believe a gazillion other language misfires can cause these sorts of issues, none involving humor, most involving following the boner of your brain, those things done with complete absence of thought. As you know, my mother and I have become skillful at using words without effort. They’re pushed out of the mouth with great force, a bulldozer driven by crazed, eyed-patched emotion, not a care for street signs and social norms. There is no feeling but our own, no appreciation for anything other than the moment. The release is a sweet one, no doubt, a catharsis like little other, but the resulting aftermath is where silence and regret live. It’s the stuff grudges and frustrated phone calls to disinterested relatives are made of.
Mindful use of language isn’t reflexive for me, not even remotely, and I want it to be. I’m not a good off-the-cuff speaker-or writer, for that matter-and I need a few seconds to craft phrasing that’s of any importance. Seconds may not seem like much, but to me it’s a conversational lifetime. I dislike that about myself, because rather than appearing mindful I fear it makes me look inept, as if I’m searching for an SAT word or making my grocery list in my head. Bread, milk, eggs, thinks the blonde. If I had resolutions for the year, and some are surfacing despite my best efforts to beat them down and dismember them properly, this would be one of them. Mindfulness with my words. Care in translating thought into speech, into text. That and writing a positive post about my mother, as I’m well aware that she comes across as something of a gremlin these days, and while the shoe fits, people, that definitely is not all that she is.
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Our company moto is
.WORDS HAVE POWER.PLEASE USE WISELY.
http://www.212degreedesigns.com
it’s on my car even,…
i can not agree enough.
well said.
Nothing wrong with taking a moment to be clear about your intention.
I wish more people consider that resolution.
Supposedly English teachers say “um” about a million times more often than math teachers do, presumably because there are more varied ways of talking about books, but also, I like to think, because English teachers care more about choosing specific words. A better way to operate, I think, even if it means there are some awkward pauses.
Despite my ability to hack out intricately-constructed sentences, I, too, am unable to come up with much that sounds great when speaking, and if I am, I almost always omit a point or two that I as intending in my head but my mind was unable to see the bloody outline sitting in front of its face.
It is for these reasons and others that arguments and drawn-out discussions (like the one I’m about to start with my own at-war mother) need to take place in writing, despite the lack of intimacy it may convey, because in the heat of it, I will either a) forget essential parts of my thoughttrain or b) will resort to namecalling, and neither is productive at the end of the day (and such situations are usually a cause for drinking).
P.S. — For the record, whatever prowness you might lack in speech, you far surpass that deficit in your content-rich writing. Well done on that.
Pausing for a few seconds to be mindful of what you want to say doesn’t make you look like anything other than the very smart, very witty and very wonderful person you are.
I agree with you 100% and have thought this about words for a very long time; words have power and they change things and once uttered…they can’t ever be taken back. The world could do with a bit more thinking, and a lot less talking, so cheers to you, friend. =-)
Mothers! Can’t live with them can’t kill them. At least that’s what my own spawn say… Silence is still golden.
Sometimes I ask a question, and before the answerer has a chance to open their mouth, I say No, Wait. That isn’t what I meant to ask, let me try again. My friends have gotten used to it. It embarrasses me sometimes, but I’d rather a little bit of embarrassment to rephrase a question or comment than a LOT of embarrassment when I put my whole leg in my mouth.
Well said, Kris.
I know of what you speak. I relive some quaffs I’ve made trying to be “funny” and I cringe over and over.
Peace,
Walter
Right now I don’t feel like I have words that can adequately respond to this or to the post before.
Words fail me way too often, especially when it seems they could matter most.
I’ve always been a Foot-in-Mouth kinda girl… trying to be better about it! It’s not bad intentions, but I think some people are just better at, um, THINKING before they speak. I am not one of them. Learning, growing, trying…
My oldest child isn’t speaking to me, apparently. I don’t know why. I must be the shrewish mother (not saying your mom is shrew, please note) in his scenario. And it hurts. A lot.
when i was about 10 or 11, my two older sisters used to tell me all the time, “you say the dumbest things. think before you speak.” after hearing that from them 1,304,932 times, it finally sunk in. and stuck. i’m now 37 years old and i will still ponder a moment before opening my mouth. it is a practice that has served me well over the years and one in which i expect to continue.
last semester i gave a lecture to medical students and each time i was asked a question, i took a few seconds to think before i answered. interestingly, they commented on my evaluation that i seemed unsure and hesitant of myself because of it. i guess they would have preferred that i just blurt out a stupid answer rather than think about a smart one…
Spot on……much abused but by far the greatest invention of human kind is communication through the spoken and written word………. well that and a well poured pint of Guinness
If your Mom is a gremlin, doesn’t she have to give you her pot of gold?
Weighing words carefully. That’s almost as crazy as obsessing about blog comments. Wuh?
I laughed out loud at your Wilford Brimley comment. I definitely find myself struggling to think twice about what I might say. I can be a little on the straightforward side, but I find it difficult b/c some people love that about me and those that don’t…well, everyone has a different level of sensitivity so how do you get your point across clearly yet without using words that don’t offend anyone (and this is more to do with work than personal relationships)?
This is an amazing post, and an important one.
There is so little mindfulness in our world these days - not with words, not with actions. If folks could be a little more conscious and mindful of what they say, perhaps the ripple effect would help change us all a little for the better.