Words or WMD's?
Sometimes I wish we could all hear exactly how we sound to each other.
I thought this as I was leaving a crowded shopping center the other day, when the walk to retrieve my bicycle became an unwanted front-row seat for an epic shouting match between a man and woman sitting on a bench nearby. It started softly, with my ears barely registering a "did he just call her that?" moment, and quickly ramped up to a full-on verbal assault that could not be ignored.
My stomach dropped through the floor as the man hurtled one obscenity after another at this woman, each one more startling than the one before (and most definitely nothing I want to repeat here). By the time I realized that something had to be done to stop this, which was probably only about twenty seconds and a truckload of vulgarity later, the security folks were on the scene to break it up. Call it what you will. Lovers quarrel. Holiday stress. Inappropriate behavior to the max. Whatever. The whole scene literally made me sick. I wanted to throw up right there.
I just wish he could hear what he sounds like, I thought to myself.
Words can be weapons of mass destruction. Forget those other WMD's. Who needs a knife, gun or bomb when you have a mouth that can do damage like that?
This led me to wonder what I sound like on a daily basis. I might not run around shooting verbal daggers like the ones I had just witnessed, but this whole scene at the mall got me thinking.
Words are just symbols after all. Am I choosing symbols of love, or symbols of hate?
I must be honest here. My vocabulary is still laced with profanity, and sometimes lots of it. A friend once said that I had to be the most inoffensive swearer he had ever known, that curse words rolled off my tongue in sentences as if they were common words like "the" or "and". I used to laugh at that assessment, as true as it were.
Over the years I have grown more conscious of my speech. I still throw around the occasional inoffensive f-bomb, normally just for emphasis or a cheap laugh. And I definitely have used that same f-bomb (and other similar bombs) in very offensive ways, too. But what is so funny about any of those words anyway? I guess the answer is obvious. None of it is really that humorous, especially when leveled at another person (or myself). In fact, using those words can get downright contentious at times.
I know one thing for sure: I don't want any f-bombs dropped on me. I mean, does anyone? And who deserves such admonition anyway?
The scary truth is, we human beings talk alot. A lot. And we seem to have ever-increasing methods to communicate with one another. Phone, text, email, skype, instant message. Take your pick. There is always a way to let someone know what's on your mind. But what are we actually saying to each other? And maybe more important, how much do we really have to say anyway?
We have all heard the phrase "if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all." Think about that for a second. Imagine if we practiced this as a society, even for just one hour, one day per year, how much less damage would be inflicted in that short sixty-minute span!
And yet, I will confess that I find this extremely difficult to do sometimes, even for a few minutes. On some days it seems downright impossible. Oh Lord, does it ever. But why?
Maybe because keeping my mouth shut means I have to listen.
It means I cannot perpetuate my own story with quite the same vigor. Listening means having to sit with my own judgements about what the world appears to be doing or saying. This can get ugly at times, not because of what I see or what I deem appropriate behavior, but because of how I feel about what I am seeing. It is never really anyone else doing anything to me that sets me off. It is how I perceive it that causes the hurt or discomfort.
A good example of this just occurred a few minutes ago. I have a neighbor who lives in a building about a stone's throw away from my front door. Now let me say, this man sneezes alot, every single day. Loudly. It sounds like he is screaming, in fact. There are times when I mock him to myself, approximating his sneeze/bark with uncanny accuracy. This always makes me laugh, and see clearly that the very noise that causes me so often to jump and get agitated can also make me smile.
It is really not his sneeze that bothers me so much, because I rather like the noise when I make a little funny out of it. I guess it is just intolerance that gets under my skin. My own intolerance. Maybe this gentleman is allergic to every single thing under the sun. Who knows! But one thing is clear: even mimicking him doesn't make me feel as good as practicing compassion.
And that's what it all boils down to, in my opinion. Paying attention to what makes us feel good inside is as effective an indicator of right speech and actions as anything else I can think of. I don't know about anyone else, but I don't like to feel bad. Probably nobody does. For me to keep my spirits up day in and day out, this means watching my words and actions more closely.
When I fall into gossip, slander, sarcasm, and such, I notice it even more now because I just don't feel right inside about any of it. This is not to say I don't ever participate in those things, and still try to justify my point of view afterwards. That would make me a gossiper and a liar. What can I say? I'm certainly not perfect. But I do want to do better.
In a few weeks I will be attending a silent retreat. No talking permitted, only meditation, contemplation and total silence. Having done this once before, I can attest to the power of self-observation and the very real understanding of how words really can get in the way of our own inner peace.
Upon rejoining the real world last time, after ten days without speech one thing was painfully clear to me: There is so much noise in our everyday lives, and much of it comes from our own mouths. And, it starts in our heads. The cleanup has to begin there.
Maybe we don't need a camera following our every move to show us what we sound like. We only need to listen, not just to each other, but more importantly to the self-talk that echoes in our minds. That's the source of it all, and where the damage is often heaviest.
It's like the saying goes: If I have nothing nice to say, then I should probably not say anything at all.
Let's tack this on: If I have nothing nice to say to myself, then I will certainly have nothing nice to say to anyone else.
Words don't have to be weapons. It helps to keep in mind that we as individuals are the only ones issuing the permits to use them that way.
I thought this as I was leaving a crowded shopping center the other day, when the walk to retrieve my bicycle became an unwanted front-row seat for an epic shouting match between a man and woman sitting on a bench nearby. It started softly, with my ears barely registering a "did he just call her that?" moment, and quickly ramped up to a full-on verbal assault that could not be ignored.
My stomach dropped through the floor as the man hurtled one obscenity after another at this woman, each one more startling than the one before (and most definitely nothing I want to repeat here). By the time I realized that something had to be done to stop this, which was probably only about twenty seconds and a truckload of vulgarity later, the security folks were on the scene to break it up. Call it what you will. Lovers quarrel. Holiday stress. Inappropriate behavior to the max. Whatever. The whole scene literally made me sick. I wanted to throw up right there.
I just wish he could hear what he sounds like, I thought to myself.
Words can be weapons of mass destruction. Forget those other WMD's. Who needs a knife, gun or bomb when you have a mouth that can do damage like that?
This led me to wonder what I sound like on a daily basis. I might not run around shooting verbal daggers like the ones I had just witnessed, but this whole scene at the mall got me thinking.
Words are just symbols after all. Am I choosing symbols of love, or symbols of hate?
I must be honest here. My vocabulary is still laced with profanity, and sometimes lots of it. A friend once said that I had to be the most inoffensive swearer he had ever known, that curse words rolled off my tongue in sentences as if they were common words like "the" or "and". I used to laugh at that assessment, as true as it were.
Over the years I have grown more conscious of my speech. I still throw around the occasional inoffensive f-bomb, normally just for emphasis or a cheap laugh. And I definitely have used that same f-bomb (and other similar bombs) in very offensive ways, too. But what is so funny about any of those words anyway? I guess the answer is obvious. None of it is really that humorous, especially when leveled at another person (or myself). In fact, using those words can get downright contentious at times.
I know one thing for sure: I don't want any f-bombs dropped on me. I mean, does anyone? And who deserves such admonition anyway?
The scary truth is, we human beings talk alot. A lot. And we seem to have ever-increasing methods to communicate with one another. Phone, text, email, skype, instant message. Take your pick. There is always a way to let someone know what's on your mind. But what are we actually saying to each other? And maybe more important, how much do we really have to say anyway?
We have all heard the phrase "if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all." Think about that for a second. Imagine if we practiced this as a society, even for just one hour, one day per year, how much less damage would be inflicted in that short sixty-minute span!
And yet, I will confess that I find this extremely difficult to do sometimes, even for a few minutes. On some days it seems downright impossible. Oh Lord, does it ever. But why?
Maybe because keeping my mouth shut means I have to listen.
It means I cannot perpetuate my own story with quite the same vigor. Listening means having to sit with my own judgements about what the world appears to be doing or saying. This can get ugly at times, not because of what I see or what I deem appropriate behavior, but because of how I feel about what I am seeing. It is never really anyone else doing anything to me that sets me off. It is how I perceive it that causes the hurt or discomfort.
A good example of this just occurred a few minutes ago. I have a neighbor who lives in a building about a stone's throw away from my front door. Now let me say, this man sneezes alot, every single day. Loudly. It sounds like he is screaming, in fact. There are times when I mock him to myself, approximating his sneeze/bark with uncanny accuracy. This always makes me laugh, and see clearly that the very noise that causes me so often to jump and get agitated can also make me smile.
It is really not his sneeze that bothers me so much, because I rather like the noise when I make a little funny out of it. I guess it is just intolerance that gets under my skin. My own intolerance. Maybe this gentleman is allergic to every single thing under the sun. Who knows! But one thing is clear: even mimicking him doesn't make me feel as good as practicing compassion.
And that's what it all boils down to, in my opinion. Paying attention to what makes us feel good inside is as effective an indicator of right speech and actions as anything else I can think of. I don't know about anyone else, but I don't like to feel bad. Probably nobody does. For me to keep my spirits up day in and day out, this means watching my words and actions more closely.
When I fall into gossip, slander, sarcasm, and such, I notice it even more now because I just don't feel right inside about any of it. This is not to say I don't ever participate in those things, and still try to justify my point of view afterwards. That would make me a gossiper and a liar. What can I say? I'm certainly not perfect. But I do want to do better.
In a few weeks I will be attending a silent retreat. No talking permitted, only meditation, contemplation and total silence. Having done this once before, I can attest to the power of self-observation and the very real understanding of how words really can get in the way of our own inner peace.
Upon rejoining the real world last time, after ten days without speech one thing was painfully clear to me: There is so much noise in our everyday lives, and much of it comes from our own mouths. And, it starts in our heads. The cleanup has to begin there.
Maybe we don't need a camera following our every move to show us what we sound like. We only need to listen, not just to each other, but more importantly to the self-talk that echoes in our minds. That's the source of it all, and where the damage is often heaviest.
It's like the saying goes: If I have nothing nice to say, then I should probably not say anything at all.
Let's tack this on: If I have nothing nice to say to myself, then I will certainly have nothing nice to say to anyone else.
Words don't have to be weapons. It helps to keep in mind that we as individuals are the only ones issuing the permits to use them that way.
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