“People have a very firm conviction, or belief, that they speak the same language, that they understand one another.
Actually this conviction has no foundation whatever. The language which they speak is adapted to practical life only. People communicate to one another information of a practical character, but as soon as they pass to a slightly more complex sphere they are immediately lost, and the cease to understand one another, although they are unconscious of it.”
— G I Gurdjieff
Language is a tricky business. People talk at each other and seldom realize that they are using the same words to mean two or more different things. Words like war or freedom or love or concepts like free will, acceptable losses, faith, religion, or meme. The words that people use in conversation with each other without sharing meaning is nigh endless. What’s even stranger is how often we use these words without having a full understanding of what we ourselves mean when we use it and how for many of these ambiguous terms, our meaning changes from day to day, conversation to conversation or hour to hour. When we say God do we mean an all-knowing guy in a white beard strolling through the sky? Do we mean an archetype, one of several that is part of the shared unconscious of mankind, an all-loving compassionate being, an angry vengeful parent. Is he internal or external? Then we can talk about love. I love you. Do I mean by that that I feel affection towards you and am trying to elicit whether you feel affection back? Do I mean it in a general sense that I love all of mankind and since you are part of that you share in my love? Does it mean I want to make love to you? Does it mean I would lay down my life for you or put your needs above my own? What if I’m not sure and it just seems like a good thing to say at the time? It always seems somewhat miraculous that any of us are able to communicate with each other at all. I guess we should thank god (or gods or goddess) for small miracles.
Blessings, G
“I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings.” -from the Fox-”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
If I could paint you a picture with words
If I could let you see the sunrise
of my meaning
and realize
it may be different from yours
but our hearts still beat together.
Please don’t take absolute definitions
from what I say
you’d never do that from my painting
merely see interpretation and energy
and that is what I give you
We may never understand each other
if words get in the way
let my heart speak to yours
Hang me on the wall of memory
and observe my meanings
like art
— G A Rosenberg
“Always ask yourself, why does this story matter? Ask and keep asking. And be as frank in your answer as all your courage will allow. When it comes to storytelling, life’s too short to waste it on stories that don’t matter.”
– Billy Marshall Stoneking.
I read the above and I feel a bit humbled. In my writing, I try to make what I say to people relevant. When I write of my past, I choose not only the stories I need to tell but the ones that I hope are meaningful, that matter. I know that a story that matters has life beyond the storyteller and in truth matters more than a storyteller ever can. Do I succeed? I don’t know. I’d rather stay unsure as overconfidence much like in parenting too often means failure.
Blessings, G
Butterfly Trails by G A Rosenberg
