Speak With Simplicity

I've been thinking a lot lately about communication.  Everywhere I turn, it's in my face.  It's like I always say, when the Universe wants to reveal something to you, it won't stop until it has it's way.

I recently took part in a little seminar thing.  Yes, that's a technical term... It was all about personalities and integrating communication in a given environment.  Some of it was a lot of "yadda, yadda" (again a technical term), but some of it made a lot of sense.

The presenter asked, "how much of language, do you think is actual words?".  My guess was fifty percent, as I have, for a long time, based that assumption on the pretense of 'it's not what you say but how you say it".  I figured, words fifty, presentation fifty.  Turns out, I was WAY off.  The actual words we speak in effort of communication account for only seven, yes SEVEN percent of what we are trying to say.

Well no wonder my expectations are so damn high... I am expecting words to handle fifty percent of what I need to hear.  I have not created room in my expectation for personality, body language, definition, annunciation. I have allowed a world of fifty percent for words... What was I thinking...

Fast forward a couple of days, and introduce Doctor Phil.  Yeah, yeah, I know - Dr. Phil... Seriously, sometimes the dude just makes good sense.  Trust me on this one.  Even I was slapped in the face with "ohhmuhhhgawd".

So, I'm on the couch, watching Dr. Phil (quit judging me, seriously!).  There is a family in shambles - huge surprise.  It's full of drama, and "I hate you"s, and "how could you do this to me"s.  And the brilliant doctor turns to them and says, "I have read your interviews.  Every sentence, every single word.  I have never, in my time here, met a family that uses such catastrophic language!  You are destroying yourselves with words!"

Up on the screen behind him, a slide show started of manuscripts of their interviews.  And he had highlighted their words; "devastated", "ruined", "dead to me", "in shock".  He turns to the momma in this situation of family rivalry, and he says to her, "were you really devastated? Were your limbs taken from you, and you were lying in the middle of the floor, unable to stand vertically and function?  No.  You. Were. Not. Devastated.  You were sad.  Simply. Sad."

The realization of the impact of catastrophic language hit me; and following shortly, simplicity.  How much damage have I done in catastrophic language, and in excepting it as a form of communication.

And so there I sat, contemplating just how I got to this point of acceptance.  The answer, ironically, came to me in the fashion of exactly the communicative virus... silence.  In the face of the absence of communication, or, yes, silence, one tends to accept the words brought to them, no matter the form.

Let me tell you what else I have learned.  Silence, although often one of my favorite things to revel in, is the worst form of communication.  It is the absence of communication, and debilitating factor in the break down of everything that once was good.  A lot can be heard in silence, and like words, only seven percent of what we hear in silence may be the intended message; but add in some body language, personality and environment, and one may have themselves a full blown message.

So kids, today's lesson is simple communication.  When you have something to say, use words.  Fill them with truth, make them real, and for crying out loud, put it out there.  Speak... and speak the truth... even when your voice shakes.

Wise Words

A wise woman once said "when you are questioning something, be sure to look very closely as to why.  If you have to ask the question, you most likely already know the answer".

She's not wrong.

Unnerved

I wanted to share this...

Go ahead... watch it.  I'll wait.  Take it all in.  Watch a second time if you need to, or if you want to.  I did.  I watched it once, then again - two times in a row, then a third and a fourth.  It infected me.  It's been stuck in my head.  It's been tossing in my soul.  I don't know so much if it's the question of "what if money were no object?", or the ever present question of "what makes you happy?".  And to a further extent, "are you letting yourself be as happy as you could be?".

My soul has been screaming.  Screaming in pain, rather than joy.  My soul is stifled. It's stuck in tolerance, and getting by.  It's stuck with more questions than answers, and less effort than routines.  

It's an unnerving thing to be able to watch your own soul shaking you, screaming at you to listen.  It's more unnerving to turn a deaf ear to it, and knowing the excuse is fear.  Terrifying is a point of saying it out loud, knowing that beyond all those that aren't listening, someone is going to hear it.  

So here I am... unnerved.  

So now what?

Being Beautiful

I just read a quote.  No, really.  Three seconds before I started typing these words, I read this quote.

"Beautiful people do not just happen".

I have been wondering what my next writing project would be, or when it would show it's face, or rear it's head.  Heck, lately it's been a struggle just to take some time to jot down some words.  This quote got me today.

"Beautiful people do not just happen".  It's in the struggle.  It's in the fight.  It's in the facing demons and learning courage.  It's hearing someone call you "extraordinary", and being able to believe it.  It's working, everyday, on being better than yesterday.  And that is truly beautiful.

I know plenty of ugly people.  Now I am not talking about an outward appearance.  I am not talking about last year's shirt, or a hairstyle that doesn't suit.  I am talking about inwardly dark, miserable, hateful people.  Not only do I know enough of them, they have been planted in my life - perhaps to remind me to be beautiful... and graceful.

I've been struggling lately with some things; things that have made me grow, things that have reminded me of my past, and what I want for my future.  I have taken the struggle and grown.  I have fought, I still fight.  I aspire to be a beautiful person.  I intend to be better than the ugly people in my life, in society, occupying space with darkness.  I intend to bring light.

And so, I promise to "not just happen".  I promise to work harder tomorrow than I did today to become beautiful.  I promise to make someone angry for standing up for what I believe in. I will speak less when silence is more beautiful.  I will make myself proud in setting and reaching goals that mean something to me.  I will act in kindness, and welcome grace.  I will learn, and I will teach. I will cultivate gratitude.  I will love.

This is how I will live with intention... this is how I will be beautiful.

Go ahead, be beautiful too.

Intentions

I haven't written in a long time. Or, shall I say, I haven't dedicated myself to a writing project in a long time.  Days come and go, and still my thoughts always look like sentences and paragraphs on a page.  I think in likeness of articles and stories.  And yet, with so much time passing, I struggle with so much to say, and no desire to tap it out.  

Life gets in the way of my intentions, sometimes, but my intentions... well those I will always carry with me.