By Rhona Canoy
SO... This time, I want to talk about me. Although it may sound a bit narcissistic, please bear with me. I hope that at the end of this column, it might spark a little bit of light in you. Because, really, that’s all I want to do.
My discovery of language and the power it holds came very early on in my life. My mama never realized the great gift she gave me. When I discovered the magic of words, the window opened in my mind and my heart filled me with so much wonder. We take so much for granted, and the intellectual shadows we prefer to live in is such a waste.
People will tell you that I talk a lot. Whether I do it in your face in a spirited conversation, or whether it is through a piece of paper with the wonderful smell of ink and the crinkly feel of your hand on it (as I am doing now), I promise that I will rarely run out of fuel. Once we realize that there is so much inside of us that we want to release, the importance of language becomes evident.
These days, people will read. But for so many wrong reasons. Yes, we want to be informed. Yes, we want to be aware of what is happening. And yet the true value of taking in the words and making them fertilize your mind is lost on us. Social media has taken so much away from us, surreptitiously. We think that all the time we spend on Facebook reading what other people have to say is stimulating. But what does it really do?
We have become so closed-minded that most of our reading has become a quest for affirmation. We seek those thoughts that we feel drawn to because we agree with them, or that it echoes our thoughts. But that’s not what words are for. I remember the first time I read a book. A whole book. Granted, the reading level was above what I was supposed to be able to manage. But the magic those words created erased barriers.
The places, the people, the things, the ideas. Everything was to me a panoramic window which allowed me to see more than I thought I saw, to chew on ideas which were alien to me, thoughts which I never had the opportunity to entertain. I think the reason why there are so much odiousness and disagreement today is that people don’t realize that minds are meant to be open. Someone said that true wisdom is the ability to be able to hold two opposing ideas in your head without having it explode. Or something like that.
To be able to consider an opposing idea, one must acknowledge that it is a painful process. We don’t like to think we’re wrong. We hold on to our point of view so tightly that it suffocates us. As humans, we are unwilling to consider why a thought that bothers us does. To try and discard subjectivity is a task near impossible. We like our subjectivity. It makes our reality feel safe, and it makes us feel like we’re in control.
But control is a myth. It is the ability to take our thoughts, digest them, hold them up in the harsh light of other people’s opinions and thoughts, and in the end understand why we react the way we do that leads to wisdom. And even then, wisdom is a myth. We are all wise, to the best of our ability. What makes wisdom relative is realizing that no single truth is absolute. And that’s why control is a myth.
Okay, I’m about to go Yoda on you. I will tell you that the truth is we are sitting in a coffee shop (let’s pretend) and that we are having a philosophical discussion. But what is the truth in that? Actually different for each of us. My truth is what I see, looking at you across the table, and hearing your words which come from an experiential place I know little about. Just as your truth is what you see, looking at me, and hearing my words which you don’t quite understand where they’re coming from.
We like and hate what we do based on what life has shown us. And we hang on to the things which we feel comfortable assimilating. If we don’t bother to know ourselves, those thoughts actually have hardly any consistency except for what drives them. I have some friends whose thoughts are fueled on discontent and anger. For the most part, our discussions are founded on disagreement.
But discussions are not an issue of who’s right and who’s wrong. We all have reasons for defending our ideas. And we can call it what we want. But in the end, it will boil down to this—that I don’t like what you say. And I will always find a way to justify my feelings. This is when words become essential. People don’t take the time to recognize that everything is words. The names we give things, thoughts, people, feelings, events, discoveries, tragedies. Everything is words. And for as long as we don’t make an effort to give our thoughts some form through these words, we are going to feel helpless, inutile, frustrated.
But until we find another way to communicate with others, until we find another way to let other people’s ideas enter our hearts and heads, we are going to stay closed-minded. We haven’t learned to appreciate the beauty in an opposing thought. We haven’t learned to consider why some thoughts affect us more than others. Someone once told me that I am pretentious. Pretentious in that I will try not to disagree with anyone, and that it is impossible for me not to have enemies.
“Enemies” is a strong word, and it limits our ability to become a human race united in our efforts to stay alive on this third rock from the sun. I will hate what you say, for reasons of my own, just as you will do the same for me. But that doesn’t mean that I should hate you. I don’t know why you think the way you do. Do you know why you hate the things you do? Have you taken the time to figure it out?
Compassion comes from understanding another’s words and thoughts. Not necessarily to agree with them, but to understand them. People hate bullies. But people who hate bullies don’t know what the bullies have lived through to make them the way they are. If we can’t find the words to let our thoughts and feelings out, and if we can’t find the words to let other people’s thoughts and feelings in, what hope do we have of expanding our minds? Of gaining wisdom? Knowledge is easy to gain. Wisdom takes a little more work.
Someone sitting beside me at the doctor’s office was fascinated that I was reading a dictionary. She asked me what the plot was. I told her, “Everything. The dictionary is the answer key to everything.” I think I confused her. But if you think about it, my answer makes sense.
