Chaos. Christmas = chaos. But for the moment, the chaos is outside of me and does not invade my personal space of peace. Last night, however, I felt chaotic inside.
I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about chaos. Daily, I’m assaulted by thoughts – tons, sometimes repetitive. Many would suggest that this condition could be remedied with medication. In fact, I am finally to the point where I am considering it. I have done so much self-exploration and practice many techniques, but the sheet number and repetitive/distracting nature of the thoughts is bothersome beyond compare.
Christmas festivities in my family typically usher in a reign of chaos. One of my primary objectives during the holidays is to maintain a state of peace within, even though I am usually surrounded by a flurry of activity and distraction. This year, the holidays truly reflect what I have been feeling inside.
I'm longing for a place to relax and settle, to give my full attention to the things I’m interested in. I have so many thoughts, so many creative ideas, but I seem to lack the ability to focus enough to turn those thoughts into anything fruitful. This is the current challenge.
I want to live in the moment, but it’s tiring to be dragged from one thought to the next. I want to grip one idea long enough to follow it through.
For now, though, my main objective is to nurture the peace inside myself. Lots of activity, lots of holiday love, but it can leave me lost. I have to take breaks to stand outside, get some quiet, tap into what I want, and assert my wants and needs. I cannot be embarrassed to do what is right for me, even if it is not like what everyone else is doing. If I need alone time, I need to take it. If I need to exercise, I can. If I need to sit still and rest, I can. I can sleep as late as I need, stay home if I need to skip out on a group activity, or work on things that are important to me even if I think people will call me strange. Usually, no one cares, and everyone is following their own yens, too. It’s up to me to keep the peace inside.
Even here, with my family, without a proper bedroom, on a weekend when I might rather be home, I am doing well. I have been listening to the truths I know and allowing my own leanings today. Yesterday was a different story. I felt trapped and unsure. Events triggered memories of holidays past and brought up anger and anxiety that I didn’t even recognize. Instead of listening to myself and seeing what was happening, I ate to get through the evening. I used food as a distraction and a crutch to make my way through Christmas Eve activities.
Today, I got up and made a new choice. I took time to check in with myself last night and woke up this morning more centered and aware of what I want. I can appreciate the love and enjoy myself without automatically linking celebration to getting what I want food-wise. I have to consciously make the effort.
Today, because I’m more aware of what I want and have taken steps to get it, I can embrace the love around me so much more. I am much more present and able to focus in the midst of the craziness that is my family holiday.
I’m enjoying Christmas now, and I’m also practicing the focused attention I’ve been longing for. Despite rapid-fire thoughts and constant activity around me, I am writing this blog. That’s a feat in itself.
And as an apology for not having posted in many weeks, I’m including a recent recording. Chris Longwood and I were in the studio at Sugar Hill last weekend, where I did several piano recordings along with some more on the guitar. I’m continuing to tweak and am glad to finally share my songs with a larger audience. More gigs to come! And more peace…
Here I Am
http://sites.google.com/site/michellecowandownloads/downloadables/04HereIAm.mp3?attredirects=0&d=1
Friday, December 25, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
How I Speak
I speak through food. Yes, I express myself in MANY other ways, discovering more and more as I grow in eating disorder recovery, but I still speak through food. When I can find no other voice, I use food. I use the cooking of it, the consuming of it, the way I prepare it, the place I go to get it, the time and speed of the process, the specific foods that I select (and do not select), and much more to say the unsayable.
Right now, I am also using food to prevent myself from saying something, to prevent myself from feeling emotions I am afraid to feel. I don’t want to admit that I am anxious about one of my relationships. I don’t want to admit how much I enjoy this relationship and want it to continue. At the same time, I’m embarrassed that I can’t commit 100 percent.
I can’t seem to divorce myself completely from the eating disorder—that and all the other activities and people in my life take up a lot of space that I don’t want to give up, even for something as wonderful as what I currently have with this particular person. It would be nice to have a relationship in which I feel complete abandon—to the extent that I would abandon everything else for it. There’s exuberance and freedom in that. But I have yet to experience that.
The desire to preserve myself and my way of life is healthy. Nonetheless, the part of me that wants to go crazy and run blind, headlong into inticing activities or relationships, is whining a little more than I’m used to. I really wish I could let go this time, but I'm following a familiar pattern.
When I allow my emotions to run wild, two things seem to happen. 1) I do ridiculous things and behave in silly ways, complete with emotions that bewilder me. 2) I find myself eating more frequently, taking more care when ordering food to get EXACTLY what I want, and possibly bingeing in my trademark, methodical way. If I cannot control my emotions, then I must feel in control somewhere else. The default choice is food. When I allow myself freedom in one area, I grip the other (food) more tightly.
But it need not be! I have uncovered the pattern and gained awareness. I don’t need food to make me feel special. I can feel special in a relationship and in other activities. Food is not the only avenue to satisfaction. Realtionships do not mean I have to give up food or my means of expression. I have many ways of communicating my needs. Just because I live in relationship with others does not mean that I discard my desires for theirs. My feelings and needs are equally legitimate and deserving of respect and attention, and I can express them through multiple means, even when food is not an available option. I am a grown-up who needs not fear losing her voice or herself.
I have learned many ways to speak my truth over the years. The fears I have of drowning and enmeshing in another person are unfounded. I demonstrate discernment and self-awareness on a daily basis.
The key is to open my mouth. I have decided to start thinking aloud more often. Sure, this could result in weird looks and confusion, but in more cases, it has already led to greater understanding and connection between me and the people I’m near. If others can hear the thought process that their comments or the situation catalyzes, they can understand where my responses come from.
Often, I think aloud after the fact. I try to explain what I was feeling I behaved a certain way by describing the process that went on inside of me. As the other person hears my story, I become less of a mystery and much more accessible and welcoming toward feedback. I feel much less insane when others indicate that they have felt exactly the same way or done the same things. I’m not so alone in my craziness. I’m closer to normal than I realize.
And when I voice my inner turmoil, I need not speak through the cryptic language of food. Of course, there are times when cooking, eating, ordering, or giving food serve as appropriate expressions of love and other feelings. There is space for that in my life, no doubt. But I don’t have to use food all the time. It need not be my go-to for every issue. I can say what I feel.
It’s time to think aloud. It's time to speak with words, not food.
Right now, I am also using food to prevent myself from saying something, to prevent myself from feeling emotions I am afraid to feel. I don’t want to admit that I am anxious about one of my relationships. I don’t want to admit how much I enjoy this relationship and want it to continue. At the same time, I’m embarrassed that I can’t commit 100 percent.
I can’t seem to divorce myself completely from the eating disorder—that and all the other activities and people in my life take up a lot of space that I don’t want to give up, even for something as wonderful as what I currently have with this particular person. It would be nice to have a relationship in which I feel complete abandon—to the extent that I would abandon everything else for it. There’s exuberance and freedom in that. But I have yet to experience that.
The desire to preserve myself and my way of life is healthy. Nonetheless, the part of me that wants to go crazy and run blind, headlong into inticing activities or relationships, is whining a little more than I’m used to. I really wish I could let go this time, but I'm following a familiar pattern.
When I allow my emotions to run wild, two things seem to happen. 1) I do ridiculous things and behave in silly ways, complete with emotions that bewilder me. 2) I find myself eating more frequently, taking more care when ordering food to get EXACTLY what I want, and possibly bingeing in my trademark, methodical way. If I cannot control my emotions, then I must feel in control somewhere else. The default choice is food. When I allow myself freedom in one area, I grip the other (food) more tightly.
But it need not be! I have uncovered the pattern and gained awareness. I don’t need food to make me feel special. I can feel special in a relationship and in other activities. Food is not the only avenue to satisfaction. Realtionships do not mean I have to give up food or my means of expression. I have many ways of communicating my needs. Just because I live in relationship with others does not mean that I discard my desires for theirs. My feelings and needs are equally legitimate and deserving of respect and attention, and I can express them through multiple means, even when food is not an available option. I am a grown-up who needs not fear losing her voice or herself.
I have learned many ways to speak my truth over the years. The fears I have of drowning and enmeshing in another person are unfounded. I demonstrate discernment and self-awareness on a daily basis.
The key is to open my mouth. I have decided to start thinking aloud more often. Sure, this could result in weird looks and confusion, but in more cases, it has already led to greater understanding and connection between me and the people I’m near. If others can hear the thought process that their comments or the situation catalyzes, they can understand where my responses come from.
Often, I think aloud after the fact. I try to explain what I was feeling I behaved a certain way by describing the process that went on inside of me. As the other person hears my story, I become less of a mystery and much more accessible and welcoming toward feedback. I feel much less insane when others indicate that they have felt exactly the same way or done the same things. I’m not so alone in my craziness. I’m closer to normal than I realize.
And when I voice my inner turmoil, I need not speak through the cryptic language of food. Of course, there are times when cooking, eating, ordering, or giving food serve as appropriate expressions of love and other feelings. There is space for that in my life, no doubt. But I don’t have to use food all the time. It need not be my go-to for every issue. I can say what I feel.
It’s time to think aloud. It's time to speak with words, not food.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Giving Up
I never give up. And I give up all the time. This is one of life’s great paradoxes.
Most people shun the idea of giving in. I often hear my own voice saying things like, “You can’t let go of this one. You can’t give in. Just a little farther. You’ve come this far; don’t give up now. Keep stretching. You can do this. There is enough. You can make it.”
But how many times, for the sake of sanity and happiness, do I also hear, “You can let this one go. Release. Surrender. Loose your grip. Take it easy. Rest now. You are not in control of outcomes; just let go. Give it up. Just give a little.”?
The same phrase, moved into a different context, reframes life and the way I live it. People claim it takes more strength to refuse to relent, to march onward despite aches and pains. For me, however, the endless march comes fairly naturally. Of course, I have plenty of moments when passivity and inaction take hold. But here, I’m focusing on the many, many times when I commit so fully to a task or ideal that I may never release it. I will hold onto it until I see completion.
Certain projects or ways of thinking evolve into monolithic dedications. I devote undue time and resources (internal and external) to “high priority” ideas that seem to have been labeled “high priority” without any cause.
I may decide that, to save money or reduce stress, I will take time every night to make lunch for work the next day. A task that serves as a sort of self-caring convenience can become a monotonous task that my obsessive-compulsive side refuses to relinquish. I will make the lunch every night because I have committed to doing so, even if it’s one in the morning before I get home. Over time, I’m exhausted and resentful of the activity. I want nothing more than to go to bed. But I might continue just because the act provides me safety and the illusion of self-care.
In the past, I also stayed true to certain spiritual ideas for years simply because I had decided at some point that they were true—based on no evidence whatsoever. To realize that I retained beliefs simply because they had been taught to me over and over again stung to the core. I couldn’t imagine life without those beliefs. It took a long time to lay them down and walk forward, even though they caused unfounded guilt, stagnation, confusion, and more. When I finally moved on, I discovered more glorious realities and ideas that I ever could imagine. It takes great faith to leave a kind of faith sometimes.
This same notion applies to former ideas I’ve had about food (good/bad, scary/safe), about what it meant to be a good employee or person, and about all sorts of tasks I’ve had assigned to me on the job or given to me in everyday life.
Oftentimes, when I feel worn down or bored, I discover that I have been striving for perfection in some area of my life. That eternally fruitless quest for an ideal always leads to never-ending projects, feelings, and beliefs that harm me and keep me from doing things I enjoy. Endless pursuits distract me and prevent the growth I truly want.
In those instances, I have to give up. I have to stop fighting the uncomfortable feelings. I have to give up trying to change an unchangeable situation. I have to let go of ideas that bring me supposed comfort but end in pain.
This means I may end up crying for hours in my apartment. I may have to take deep breaths to make it through a tedious or triggering meeting. I may have to admit that I don’t believe what I used to. All of these actions place me square in the middle of a liminal space—a space between, where I have left something behind but have not yet found the new.
For instance, I finally stop moving long enough to feel sad or disgruntled, and then I have to piece together exactly what provoked that emotion. I may even have to formulate an action to satisfy the feelings. I may be just need to accept my tears.
Breathing deeply during a meeting may open up space for me to examine exactly what is making me so uncomfortable. Do I need to say something? Not say something? Work on resentments toward another person? Is it simply that my body needs food or a pit stop?
Leaving old beliefs behind may mean uncertainty about what I believe. To live in that space is to live without explanations, without reasons. This can be hard for know-it-alls like me who appreciate pat statements and decisiveness.
In all of these situations, I give in. I give up something. I let go. I surrender.
However, in all of these situations, I don’t give in. I keep walking. I keep investigating. I keep living.
I give up an old way of living but do not give up living altogether. That is my truth for the day.
Most people shun the idea of giving in. I often hear my own voice saying things like, “You can’t let go of this one. You can’t give in. Just a little farther. You’ve come this far; don’t give up now. Keep stretching. You can do this. There is enough. You can make it.”
But how many times, for the sake of sanity and happiness, do I also hear, “You can let this one go. Release. Surrender. Loose your grip. Take it easy. Rest now. You are not in control of outcomes; just let go. Give it up. Just give a little.”?
The same phrase, moved into a different context, reframes life and the way I live it. People claim it takes more strength to refuse to relent, to march onward despite aches and pains. For me, however, the endless march comes fairly naturally. Of course, I have plenty of moments when passivity and inaction take hold. But here, I’m focusing on the many, many times when I commit so fully to a task or ideal that I may never release it. I will hold onto it until I see completion.
Certain projects or ways of thinking evolve into monolithic dedications. I devote undue time and resources (internal and external) to “high priority” ideas that seem to have been labeled “high priority” without any cause.
I may decide that, to save money or reduce stress, I will take time every night to make lunch for work the next day. A task that serves as a sort of self-caring convenience can become a monotonous task that my obsessive-compulsive side refuses to relinquish. I will make the lunch every night because I have committed to doing so, even if it’s one in the morning before I get home. Over time, I’m exhausted and resentful of the activity. I want nothing more than to go to bed. But I might continue just because the act provides me safety and the illusion of self-care.
In the past, I also stayed true to certain spiritual ideas for years simply because I had decided at some point that they were true—based on no evidence whatsoever. To realize that I retained beliefs simply because they had been taught to me over and over again stung to the core. I couldn’t imagine life without those beliefs. It took a long time to lay them down and walk forward, even though they caused unfounded guilt, stagnation, confusion, and more. When I finally moved on, I discovered more glorious realities and ideas that I ever could imagine. It takes great faith to leave a kind of faith sometimes.
This same notion applies to former ideas I’ve had about food (good/bad, scary/safe), about what it meant to be a good employee or person, and about all sorts of tasks I’ve had assigned to me on the job or given to me in everyday life.
Oftentimes, when I feel worn down or bored, I discover that I have been striving for perfection in some area of my life. That eternally fruitless quest for an ideal always leads to never-ending projects, feelings, and beliefs that harm me and keep me from doing things I enjoy. Endless pursuits distract me and prevent the growth I truly want.
In those instances, I have to give up. I have to stop fighting the uncomfortable feelings. I have to give up trying to change an unchangeable situation. I have to let go of ideas that bring me supposed comfort but end in pain.
This means I may end up crying for hours in my apartment. I may have to take deep breaths to make it through a tedious or triggering meeting. I may have to admit that I don’t believe what I used to. All of these actions place me square in the middle of a liminal space—a space between, where I have left something behind but have not yet found the new.
For instance, I finally stop moving long enough to feel sad or disgruntled, and then I have to piece together exactly what provoked that emotion. I may even have to formulate an action to satisfy the feelings. I may be just need to accept my tears.
Breathing deeply during a meeting may open up space for me to examine exactly what is making me so uncomfortable. Do I need to say something? Not say something? Work on resentments toward another person? Is it simply that my body needs food or a pit stop?
Leaving old beliefs behind may mean uncertainty about what I believe. To live in that space is to live without explanations, without reasons. This can be hard for know-it-alls like me who appreciate pat statements and decisiveness.
In all of these situations, I give in. I give up something. I let go. I surrender.
However, in all of these situations, I don’t give in. I keep walking. I keep investigating. I keep living.
I give up an old way of living but do not give up living altogether. That is my truth for the day.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
New Website
I'm working on putting together a new website. For now, I'm trying out a Wix flash site. And since I'm super-cheap, I'm using the free version that still has the Wix ads on it. Hey, I want to test drive before I commit.
Anyway, take a look and let me know what you think either by commenting here or sending an email from the contact page of the new site.
Here it is!
www.wix.com/Mickster7/Michelle-Cowan
Anyway, take a look and let me know what you think either by commenting here or sending an email from the contact page of the new site.
Here it is!
www.wix.com/Mickster7/Michelle-Cowan
Get It Out!
When you need to say something, say it! If something is bottled up inside, you have to get it out. Get it out somehow, even if only by speaking to the wind. If it’s something you long to say to someone else but just can’t, you don’t have to say it to his or her face. You can write it down or have a pretend conversation right there, in your room, in your car, alone. Imagine the reaction if you want. You don’t have to, though. Just speak your peace.
Writing is exceptionally helpful for me. It helps structure my thoughts in a way that makes more sense or is less overwhelming to me. Oftentimes, I feel as though I’m having a thousand thoughts, but when I write them down, they really only amount to four or five.
The danger of my mind is its tendency to loop. Although most of my thoughts are ones I can allow to pass without action, some rise to the surface repeatedly. These are ones that demand expression. If I refuse to recognize or release those thoughts, they remain near the forefront of my consciousness where they travel merry-go-round style until I feel dizzy and confused. A couple of resentments, a brilliant idea or plan, and a few repressed feelings start seeming like an ominous cloud of too-much.
In fact, this loop effect is the basis for my belief (and the opinion of others) that I “think too much.” I do think too much, but the key to resolving this issue is that the thinking often traverses the same territory./ I’m not thinking a multitude of thoughts necessarily, just the same ones over and over, because I have not done anything with them. I experience no freedom until I write them down, sing them out, talk aloud, or confront another individual.
Too many brilliant thoughts have failed to see the light of day because people were afraid others might judge them or think they were weird for having those thoughts. Many intelligent folks are afraid of what actions they may have to take if they voice their ideas. Once something is out in the open, it could go anywhere—in theory.
I’m here to say that step one is to tell your ideas to yourself. Gauge how comfortable you are with the thought and see if you are satisfied leaving it within the confines of your own space. If you are, the insanity may be over.
However, if you still don’t feel completely liberated, it may be time to share your thoughts with another person. (Some prefer to talk to a pet first, but that’s a matter of preference.) This step always brings a new perspective and usually a calm to the situation. Other people’s opinions are often the most feared element of all. To conquer that fear usually means the world—and either ends the painful thought cycle or sparks new actions.
Sometimes, before sharing with someone else, further analysis or organization of the thought is required. I have thoughts so convoluted that I have to turn them into stories or lists. Many of my ideas evolve into songs. People often understand my thoughts much better when release them to the world in a more creative form. They get lost if I just ramble. What’s more—the process of crafting the thought’s expression usually ends the torment of the thought merry-go-round all by itself.
Nonetheless, don’t forget that some thoughts JUST NEED OUT. Sometimes, your job is to say what you feel in the moment. As I have learned to do this, I feel freer and freer. I am more myself. Yes, occasionally, unintentionally offensive things are said or I am completely misunderstood. But I rarely regret speaking my truth in an authentic way.
Like I said in a previous post, I’m learning and practicing new, more tactful ways to put things. The core of the effort is not to delay the speaking of my mind, but to improve my ability to state personal thoughts or feelings in the moment using a means of expression that most accurately conveys my true intention and idea to the listener. I want to get it out but also be understood.
Right now, my moment is here, on my own. I think I have some journaling to do… And then maybe a person to call…
Writing is exceptionally helpful for me. It helps structure my thoughts in a way that makes more sense or is less overwhelming to me. Oftentimes, I feel as though I’m having a thousand thoughts, but when I write them down, they really only amount to four or five.
The danger of my mind is its tendency to loop. Although most of my thoughts are ones I can allow to pass without action, some rise to the surface repeatedly. These are ones that demand expression. If I refuse to recognize or release those thoughts, they remain near the forefront of my consciousness where they travel merry-go-round style until I feel dizzy and confused. A couple of resentments, a brilliant idea or plan, and a few repressed feelings start seeming like an ominous cloud of too-much.
In fact, this loop effect is the basis for my belief (and the opinion of others) that I “think too much.” I do think too much, but the key to resolving this issue is that the thinking often traverses the same territory./ I’m not thinking a multitude of thoughts necessarily, just the same ones over and over, because I have not done anything with them. I experience no freedom until I write them down, sing them out, talk aloud, or confront another individual.
Too many brilliant thoughts have failed to see the light of day because people were afraid others might judge them or think they were weird for having those thoughts. Many intelligent folks are afraid of what actions they may have to take if they voice their ideas. Once something is out in the open, it could go anywhere—in theory.
I’m here to say that step one is to tell your ideas to yourself. Gauge how comfortable you are with the thought and see if you are satisfied leaving it within the confines of your own space. If you are, the insanity may be over.
However, if you still don’t feel completely liberated, it may be time to share your thoughts with another person. (Some prefer to talk to a pet first, but that’s a matter of preference.) This step always brings a new perspective and usually a calm to the situation. Other people’s opinions are often the most feared element of all. To conquer that fear usually means the world—and either ends the painful thought cycle or sparks new actions.
Sometimes, before sharing with someone else, further analysis or organization of the thought is required. I have thoughts so convoluted that I have to turn them into stories or lists. Many of my ideas evolve into songs. People often understand my thoughts much better when release them to the world in a more creative form. They get lost if I just ramble. What’s more—the process of crafting the thought’s expression usually ends the torment of the thought merry-go-round all by itself.
Nonetheless, don’t forget that some thoughts JUST NEED OUT. Sometimes, your job is to say what you feel in the moment. As I have learned to do this, I feel freer and freer. I am more myself. Yes, occasionally, unintentionally offensive things are said or I am completely misunderstood. But I rarely regret speaking my truth in an authentic way.
Like I said in a previous post, I’m learning and practicing new, more tactful ways to put things. The core of the effort is not to delay the speaking of my mind, but to improve my ability to state personal thoughts or feelings in the moment using a means of expression that most accurately conveys my true intention and idea to the listener. I want to get it out but also be understood.
Right now, my moment is here, on my own. I think I have some journaling to do… And then maybe a person to call…
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Sample from Sugar Hill
This morning, I rocked out at Sugar Hill Studios here in Houston, where Chris Longwood recorded eight original songs of mine. I went prepared to do four songs, but we ended up recording live takes instead of isolating vocals and instrumentation. We wrapped up much earlier than expected and with more to take away than I imagined.
I'm happy with the results we achieved in very little time. It's amazing what high-quality equipment can do! (Along with being well-rehearsed beforehand...) Have a listen:
She's Lovely
http://sites.google.com/site/michellecowandownloads/downloadables/01She%27sLovely.mp3?attredirects=0
I hope to build on the tracks we made today, adding harmonies, other instruments, and percussion. Now that I leaped over the hump of my initial anxiety, I feel much more hopeful about creating an album one day in the very near future. I encourage everyone out there to risk doing things you feel inexperienced at. What you learn is worth feeling stupid for a little while.
I seem to expect myself to be an expert in all realms of music, but I'm not. Hiring expertise and remaining teachable proved to be more than worth it.
I'm happy with the results we achieved in very little time. It's amazing what high-quality equipment can do! (Along with being well-rehearsed beforehand...) Have a listen:
She's Lovely
http://sites.google.com/site/michellecowandownloads/downloadables/01She%27sLovely.mp3?attredirects=0
I hope to build on the tracks we made today, adding harmonies, other instruments, and percussion. Now that I leaped over the hump of my initial anxiety, I feel much more hopeful about creating an album one day in the very near future. I encourage everyone out there to risk doing things you feel inexperienced at. What you learn is worth feeling stupid for a little while.
I seem to expect myself to be an expert in all realms of music, but I'm not. Hiring expertise and remaining teachable proved to be more than worth it.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
When Words Are the Problem
You’d think that, as a writer, I would say, “Words are the solution!” But no. Sometimes—in fact, most of the time—they are the problem.
We have all of these words—all this language—and yet, how many of us actually manage to say what we mean? History is fraught with misunderstandings, he-said-she-said, bogus interpretations, poor phrasing, and flat-out carelessness. Think Shakespeare, think Jane Austen, think Three’s Company.
How many times has the person you’re speaking with heard things you never said? And how many times has adding more words only made a bigger mess?
We communicate via so many channels all of the time. People read body language, pauses between words, eye flickers. We can move and touch each other in ways that communicate infinitely more than twelve pages of writing ever could. Despite the infinite communicative capacity of our bodies, we find ourselves in a world centered on words.
Phones remove faces from conversation; texting goes even further. We have to convey personality with the words and symbols we choose, which often provides an inaccurate reflection of the true emotions at play. We give up very few secrets; whereas, in person, the truth is often easier to detect.
Thank goodness for video on the internet, or else the Web could completely collapse into a tangled scrapheap of words, where real people no longer exist, only language and our fitful attempts to inject tone or personality into the figures we type. The internet is a dangerous place for personal communication.
Regardless of our culture’s ever-growing reliance on virtual communication, I have a difficult enough time expressing myself in person—at least in a way that comes across as intended. Am I a linguistic lummox? I feel so rarely heard and so often like the inflictor of unintentional pain. If I waited until I could think of a perfect way to say something, I’d never say anything. So, unfortunately, what comes out of my mouth often lacks the tact and kindness I envision.
Fie you, words! You always get in the way of what I’m trying to say.
Since I thus far have proved myself unable to bring my on-the-spot speech to the level I desire, I am choosing to cultivate other methods of communication. Although I have greatly improved my ability to say what I mean, it is nowhere near where I would like it. I’ve concluded that verbal communication is something that will only improve with time, growth, and experience. By studying language for years, I’ve topped out on any kind of unnatural progress that could be made.
So if you see me dancing about, gesticulating wildly, touching more people, painting more pictures, making more collages, or using more grunts and squeals than words, you’ll know why. A picture’s worth a thousand words? Well, I’ve heard sighs that say twice as many.
We have all of these words—all this language—and yet, how many of us actually manage to say what we mean? History is fraught with misunderstandings, he-said-she-said, bogus interpretations, poor phrasing, and flat-out carelessness. Think Shakespeare, think Jane Austen, think Three’s Company.
How many times has the person you’re speaking with heard things you never said? And how many times has adding more words only made a bigger mess?
We communicate via so many channels all of the time. People read body language, pauses between words, eye flickers. We can move and touch each other in ways that communicate infinitely more than twelve pages of writing ever could. Despite the infinite communicative capacity of our bodies, we find ourselves in a world centered on words.
Phones remove faces from conversation; texting goes even further. We have to convey personality with the words and symbols we choose, which often provides an inaccurate reflection of the true emotions at play. We give up very few secrets; whereas, in person, the truth is often easier to detect.
Thank goodness for video on the internet, or else the Web could completely collapse into a tangled scrapheap of words, where real people no longer exist, only language and our fitful attempts to inject tone or personality into the figures we type. The internet is a dangerous place for personal communication.
Regardless of our culture’s ever-growing reliance on virtual communication, I have a difficult enough time expressing myself in person—at least in a way that comes across as intended. Am I a linguistic lummox? I feel so rarely heard and so often like the inflictor of unintentional pain. If I waited until I could think of a perfect way to say something, I’d never say anything. So, unfortunately, what comes out of my mouth often lacks the tact and kindness I envision.
Fie you, words! You always get in the way of what I’m trying to say.
Since I thus far have proved myself unable to bring my on-the-spot speech to the level I desire, I am choosing to cultivate other methods of communication. Although I have greatly improved my ability to say what I mean, it is nowhere near where I would like it. I’ve concluded that verbal communication is something that will only improve with time, growth, and experience. By studying language for years, I’ve topped out on any kind of unnatural progress that could be made.
So if you see me dancing about, gesticulating wildly, touching more people, painting more pictures, making more collages, or using more grunts and squeals than words, you’ll know why. A picture’s worth a thousand words? Well, I’ve heard sighs that say twice as many.
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