Archives for posts with tag: words words words

Saturday I bought a car. I didn’t write. Sunday, I spent the day on small creative endeavors and enjoying the company of family and a friend. I didn’t write, or manage my time sufficiently well to meditate. I also didn’t have any sort of meltdown, in spite of some small amount of anxiety about buying a car, Saturday. Monday, I worked. I didn’t write. Tuesday was more of the same, only it began wonderfully well in the loving company of my traveling partner, who drove me to work in the new car. I still didn’t write.

I’m not actually writing today… I’m really just observing the non-writing, such as it is. What’s up with this? Did I use up all the words?

This morning I woke anxious. Anxiety with a capital A, resting heavily on my chest when I took my first waking breaths, and settled into my guts and accompanying my every breath, every moment, every thought…it’s been awhile since I last felt it like this. More than likely it’s the work piece that has my anxiety resurfacing in this very visceral way…but there’s not much I want to say about it; I would rather feel it melt away, forgotten, than discuss it.

Tomorrow…Thanksgiving. That one’s a biggish deal for me; this year will be the first Thanksgiving I’ve gone out for dinner that I could have cooked at home. It feels a bit strange, but I don’t know whether it ‘matters’. Maybe I’ll write tomorrow?

Today…is what it is. The day will unfold whether I write or not. Today is a good day to take care of me; the words will take care of themselves.

Each time for the first time, each moment, the only moment...

Each time for the first time, each moment, the only moment…

Losing weight – like growth and change – sometimes happens faster than my self-perception can keep up with. It’s a decent metaphor, this morning; I may not recognize myself, or treat myself well in the context of who I am, and find myself sort of stuck, treating me like some other person than this being, right here, now. Character, and qualities of self, can be difficult to see in a mirror, and the mirror of our relationships and associations is a bit of a fun house sort of mirror with everything reflected back being filtered through that persons experiences, expectations, and understandings of the world. The idea of a mirror completes this apt metaphor in this moment.

How accurate is a mirror, or a photograph, when time passes, and people change? I guess...as accurate as it ever was, and that's a matter of perspective.

How accurate is a mirror, or a photograph, when time passes, and people change? I guess…as accurate as it ever was, and that’s a matter of perspective. 

It’s important to pause now and then to take stock of who I am, now, what matters to me, and what I value. Fall seems like a good time for that; I can imagine the autumn leaves fluttering to the ground as misperceptions falling away. I can ask “who am I?” and comfortably answer the question without fear or panic these days. I enjoy that. [Warning: ‘I statements’ ahead…]

When conditions are right, growth happens; it may be necessary to make a point of noticing it.

When conditions are right, growth happens; it may be necessary to make a point of noticing it.

I like relationships in which I feel heard and considered. I thrive when I feel respected, valued, and encouraged as a person. I feel most motivated to commit emotion and effort, and to work at love, when the efforts feel reciprocal, and the investment – emotional, and otherwise – feels balanced. Reciprocity is important for love – at least, for my love, and so is equanimity. I favor openness, and gentle frank explicit communication – of needs, of boundaries, of limits, of hopes, of plans, of desires, of successes, of failures, of complaints, of fantasies, of values… of self. I prefer kindness and compassion to sarcasm and mockery. (Actually, I prefer kindness and compassion to a whole bunch of other things that crop up in relationships I’ve had.) I like pleasant homecomings, and easy departures. I prefer a relationship of equals. These are the qualities I seek in relationships – and not just by looking; I seek them by choosing, by building, and by being willing to acknowledge their lack. I practice them, too. Every day, every minute – sometimes with less success than others; I know to begin again in each new moment, and that practicing over time becomes being. I am learning not to compromise what matters most to me.

I like sex, too. Hell – I love sex; it’s been a very big deal for me for a very long while. It’s a basic need for human primates, and I associate the feelings that follow sex with love and romance. I’ve done it enough to know that without a connection that matters to me, sex isn’t worth the time spent, or the calories burned, at least not now that I understand there can be so much more to it than a copulatory act. I am learning not to compromise on that, too.

This is who I am. This is the way I love. These are the things I value in my relationships and in life.  I’ve come a long way to understand these things about myself, to acknowledge and respect my values, and to practice them with commitment, intention, and will. I’m still human, and I still err…right now, though, the view in the mirror is pretty okay with me.

One singular autumn moment in the company of my self.

One singular autumn moment in the company of my self.

Today is a good day to be who I am, and whether I am content with who I am and the journey I am on, or find myself lacking; no one can be me as well as I can. Every journey we take begins precisely where we actually are. Today is a good day to take a first step. Today is a good day to think on all the steps taken thus far. Today is a good day for contentment, and a good day to recognize the tremendous value we have to ourselves and our own experience.

Take care of you today; you matter. Be kind and compassionate to those around you; they matter, too. Today is a good day to change the world.

Subtleties matter in language. There is a distinction to be made between one thing and another, and we use language to make that distinction clear to others. An example? ‘Point of view’ versus ‘angle of view’ – they mean different things, yes? Or…no? How about the difference between ‘being critical’ and ‘critical thinking’? That seems a pretty important distinction to make; those things are not the same at all, they just take advantage of language by sharing a word. Some differences are about how something feels within us, like ‘irritable’ versus ‘angry’; making that distinction helps us communicate our state of being more accurately to others. Some difference seem more a matter of precision about something outside ourselves, but I’m often unclear on the line between ‘within’ and ‘external’, not due to any particular madness of note, but simply because so few people communicate clearly in language sufficiently precise to account for those nuances – or are unclear themselves on the subtle differences between their internal experience (“this is uncomfortable for me” for example) and their external experience (“this is wrong or impermissible, and being imposed on me” for example).  I am learning to listen carefully, and to apply mindful awareness to opportunities to connect and enjoy people in the moment.

It gets complicated when I consider that the words I don’t say have nearly as much impact on other people as the words I do say.

It gets even more complicated when I consider that the tone with which I deliver those words changes their meaning to the person hearing them.

I’m still sort of feeling my way around in the murky shadow lands of good communication, actually. I tend to be strangely ‘face value’ about what people say, much of time. I don’t tend to see/hear subtext very easily, although I can quickly craft numerous alternate meanings or explanations of something said, it’s a very abstract thing. When I have more data, I can be more accurate, but it isn’t really about that other level of understanding for me; I am guessing. Maybe we all are? Those pesky assumptions can really fuck us up!

A journey, a path, a way, an experience.

A journey, a path, a way, an experience.

This has been a lovely few days for beautiful words, too. My partner has showered me with lovely ones, meaningful loving profundities of all kinds, hyperbolic assurances of value, appreciation, worthiness, and fondness. He’s also lobbed a few my way in moments of frustration or hurt that were just flat-out human and mean. I definitely hear the mean part first, and have to fight not to react to that before I catch up with the rest and hear his frustration and hurt; speaking to what is has more value than allowing myself to be chased by my own demons.

Right now, Hardwiring Happiness is the most important book in my kindle. I didn’t realize how little time I was spending really enjoying, savoring, and appreciating the good things, the beautiful words, or the best moments, and how very many minutes I would spend on what hurt, what frustrates me, what makes me sad, what weighs down my heart, or makes me angry – whole hours and days in fact, resulting in implicit negatively bias so extraordinary that I developed a hair-trigger response to frustration that resulted in nasty tantrums, irrational fits of rage or despair, and a lot of irritability because life often felt like it just sucked. I don’t generally feel that way much these days.

Whimsical porcelain figurine; Meissen on display at the Portland Art Museum.

Whimsical porcelain figurine; Meissen on display at the Portland Art Museum.

Words are magical – and not always well-received, or understood at intended. Life’s curriculum is often built on the power of words.

Today is a good day to use fewer words, with more clarity. Today is a good day to use gentle words, with more kindness. Today is a good day to use words with great precision, and great honesty. Today is a good day to change the words.

 

Before we get a lot farther, I’ll say first that I am not holding any significant credentials in linguistics, semantics, or language.  All views expressed are those of… me. Just me. My thoughts. My observations. My judgement. My bias. My baggage.  All filtered through my own experiences, my perspective on life, love and the world, my history as a human being, my education – and lack of education, the reading I have done, the consideration I have given all these things, and finally assembled as neatly as possible as a string of words in a row, hoping to capture what I think I mean to say, to share with you.  Ready? 😀

There is more to a sunny day than meets the eye; what we see is rarely all there is.

There is more to a sunny day than meets the eye; what we see is rarely all there is.

I say a lot about words. I do so using the words themselves. I share my thoughts using words. I share most of my emotional experience using words; the portions of that shared wordlessly, through non verbal expression of feelings, is not very precise and easily misunderstood or taken personally by others. I recall things that happened before now using words. Words are the building blocks of my poetry, my captions, my titles, and my jokes. Words are what I use to write love notes, and consumer feedback, to express my delight and my outrage. Words deliver hurts and words nurture my soul. Words define experiences, things, and people and they describe places, events, and experiences. Words tell profound truths, and also terrible lies. Words expose what is real, and are also used to attempt to hide what is real, or alter a shared understanding of reality. Words are used to threaten, to coerce, to convince, to persuade, to celebrate, to mourn, to immortalize, to laud and to punish. Words  are powerful. Powerful like Science. Powerful like magic. We are words as much as we are stardust; even Carl Sagan used words to communicate what he understood about life, the world, and the heavens.

I giggle to myself, at least once or twice, when I read books about words. There’s just something about it that tickles me.

A former partner, years ago, once firmly advised me in a moment of strife, that it ‘didn’t count’ if I had to be told what he wanted to hear; that soothing words, comforting words, romantic words, supportive and nurturing words only count if the speaker comes up with it on their own, from their heart, with no help from the person who needs to hear the words. An interesting thought that relies heavily on the assumption that love allows us to read minds. lol I didn’t find it to be an accurate statement, myself, but I admit it was entirely true of my then-partner, who would reliably refuse any comfort or positive outcome from any words he’d been party to suggesting might be good ones to use in that moment. (It seems unnecessary to point out the choice being made there.)

Another partner once merrily chuckled playfully (in a moment of domestic-not-quite-bliss, having provided a clear specific suggestion of the words he most needed to hear in that  moment, and having heard them repeated back by his loving partner, in  sincere and heartfelt way, honest in intent, although lacking in originality), “Knows answer when told…” and as though taking notes or scoring a test, made a check mark in the air, over an imaginary clipboard. We cracked up together; it’s a moment and phrase that still sticks with me, and not solely because of shared military experience (from whence that quote comes, actually being used in military scoring of certain task testing). He makes different choices, and he felt cared for because he used his words – and so did his partner.

I’m just saying; words matter. They matter when we listen, and they matter when we speak.

The words themselves are less about originality than the order in which they are used (there are only so many to choose from, and some are favored above all others; obviously, originality is not the issue), and whether we feel heard when we use them, or how we are spoken to when we hear them (which is a very subjective thing that I suspect we entirely make up in our heads as we go).  There are books about words, about how to use them, what they mean, and when they are most effective for what purposes. There are books that simply list words other people have said, in the order spoken, and saved on record as being peculiarly useful, effective, amusing, or historically noteworthy. There are letters and love notes of such awesome craftsmanship that their emotive power is preserved in them, and they are referenced and shared down through the years as culturally significant.

I’m just saying; words really matter – enough that it is worthwhile to put some thought into the words we choose.

Nearly every moment of wonder, of love, of delight in my own experience has been framed up in words, if not in the moment, sometime soon after when I share it with someone else.  The profound love I share with my partners is expressed to me wordlessly, often, sure – but as often, my recollection of expressions of love is in words. The eager goals of our future are shared in words. The challenges we face together, or with each other, are discussed in words. My own growth and progress with myself as a being is shared with my loved ones – and in my blog – with words. My annual review at work is in words. All the words – each of them – bring a shade of meaning to my experience I might have lacked, or understood differently, without the words, themselves. I can tell someone I love them without using words…but I can’t tell them why, or how much, or explain the nuances of what they mean to me, without the words. I can cry out in pain or anguish without words, but I can’t tell someone what is wrong, or ask for help, without the words to do so.

So…yeah. Words matter…but…they’re also totally made up. Seriously. We created each one, and someone (generally the person who thought up the word, at least initially) also made up what the word will be used to convey. What words mean changes over time, with usage. Some people are very precise with their use of language. Some people are sloppy and careless to the point of being difficult to understand, or communicating something more about their education, or character, through their choices with words. There are so many words, and still there are ideas for which no word yet exists; new ones come into being all the time. We communicate and we miscommunicate using words. Words we made up. Words we defined. Words we choose to use. We create our own experience, and color it, with words we choose ourselves, and call our ‘thoughts’; we behave as though they are real, and follow them with our actions and moods until they are.

Yes. Words matter, and I’m just saying; use your words. Use them wisely. Use them with care. Use them, don’t let them just tumble out of your face hole randomly. Use them with awareness that they are easily ‘weaponized’ and awareness that you have the power to hurt someone with words in ways that are not easily healed. We accept that actions have consequences fairly easily; words, too, have consequences.

Another perspective on a sunny day.

Another perspective on a sunny day.

Today is a good day to use kind words. Today is a good day to express myself with great clarity. Today is a good day to hear what is said, and to take a moment to understand the words. Today is a good day to consider my words, and their merit, and to use them with great care. Today is a good day to build truth, and to use honest words. Today is a good day to love, and to say so with loving words. Today is a good day for praise and encouraging words. Today is a good day to contemplate words that convey beauty and words that communicate a better understanding. Today is a good day to change the words.

When I am on a long road trip, I watch eagerly for the signs alerting drivers of some near by roadside attraction, monument, historical marker, or ‘view point’. I stop for the ones that appeal to me, and stop even for less appealing ones when I am fatigued. It breaks the monotony of driving, which develops over time, even though I enjoy driving. I often see very cool things I’d have otherwise missed, adding to a lifetime of interesting experiences that become part of the person I am. Occasionally, there turns up a peculiar ‘nothing to see here’ moment, when some roadside ‘view point’ turns out to be nothing more interesting than a pull off, and a distant but unremarkable vista. I bring who I am to each of these experiences, and enjoy the potential to walk away more experienced, and thereby more who I am becoming.

Our perspective really matters; it changes what we are able to observe.

Our perspective really matters; it changes what we are able to observe.

I find something interesting in the above paragraph, if viewed as a metaphor; how easily I pull off the road to see something I haven’t seen, or even may have seen, but from a different perspective – and how difficult it can sometimes be in conversation with another to do the same in the moment – to metaphorically ‘pull off on the side of the road, and take a look at something from a different point of view’. I don’t personally place a positive value on ‘being right’, in spite of the cultural emphasis on that characteristic. Vile things are said and done by human beings to other human beings – even loved ones – in the name of ‘being right’. How easily I fail to take time to look at something, someone, through beginner’s eyes, though… and in spite of not being concerned about ‘being right’ on some detail, I can easily find myself defending my position against someone else’s perception of my ‘being wrong’. It’s an easy misstep to make on a journey, and in a relationship; defensiveness is the flip side of needing to be right. I woke this morning with this particular thought in my mental buffer. I wonder what I was dreaming, and if it was the byproduct of my brain working through the details of yesterday?

I had a particularly emotionally challenging conversation with my traveling partner, yesterday. It reached a point where it was profoundly emotional, and I was definitely on the defensive; I had a strong sense I wasn’t being understood. (As it turned out, I was well-understood, but didn’t recognize that, myself, although he courteously said the things he understood would communicate that understanding, I just wasn’t quite ‘getting it’.) If the conversation had developed differently, I would have been very receptive to the information my partner was sharing; somewhere as the conversation developed, however, I found myself assuming I wasn’t being understood, because the information provided to me didn’t address what I said the way I expected it to be addressed…and because of that, I perceived a disagreement that wasn’t in fact present. He offered me new knowledge and a better understanding of the discussion (we were talking about the use of meta-discussion versus discussion of singular now events as methods of shared discussion of needs, and where one or the other is more suitable to growth, change, or harmonious dialogue). I returned the favor with some tears, and frustrated confusion; he was duly frustrated and confused as well, and irked by the tears. I was too. We easily got past it once we both recognized that I had begun to approach the dialogue defensively, and feeling attacked, even though the conversation had begun in the abstract. We took time to comfort each other, to acknowledge missteps, hurt feelings, and to be frankly accountable for our own role there. We returned to the basic points we were each making in the original abstract, and fairly academic discussion, and recognized the value of each – and of each of us to each other as well. Smiles were shared around, and hugs – and bacon. lol. The entire conversation happened in the span of time it takes to cook bacon. That’s real growth for me; there was a time in my life that bullshit might have lingered for days, with me storming around in a childish funk for no real reason. Instead, I enjoyed learning, growth, and connecting with my partner… he still had to endure a few moments of tears from a partner who is to all outward appearances a grown woman who could be expected to be beyond childish tantrums, and needless tears (and clearly isn’t). He did, though, and graciously moved on from the moment without further difficulty.

So much more than meets the eye.

So much more than meets the eye.

Yesterday was lovely. It ended in moonlight and a phone call alerting me that the northern lights were visible… wherever my traveling partner found himself last night. I eagerly stepped outside hoping to see them, myself. Alas, no. A great huge blight on the view of the night (an Intel facility a couple blocks away) reduces the night sky, generally, to inky black, with only a moon to see. It hung in the night, luminous and pale, and I stood in the coolness, in the soft darkness, listening to the distant sounds of traffic, and machinery, and contemplating the dense starry sky from the view of my campsite a couple of weekends ago. I miss that particular night sky, full of stars; it reminded me of the night sky in the desert, although I could only see patches of it through the trees. That too is a beautiful metaphor; there is so much more than we can see. Even in my own experience, some one negative moment can loom so large in my awareness that it blots out the beauty, the delight, a pleasant and unfulfilled now, or the recollection of how wonderful life actually is, generally.  A nice observation to carry around for the future. Useful perspective.

As I write, I hear my traveling partner arrive home from his Saturday night out. It’s not quite dawn. I feel that sense of relief and security that he is safe and near. A hug, a smile, a moment of quiet conversation; all seems well in the world.

A new day beginning. Today is a good day for love, and a good day to treat love well. Today is a good day to practice The Big 5, even on myself. Today is a good day to take care of me, and share smiles generously. Today is a good day to experience life from a perspective of joy and wonder. Today is a good day to change the world.