By Debbie Coetzee-Lachmann, a South African who has been living and working in Germany since 2002 and an Advisory Member of Rape Outcry's Executive Committee.
I love words, I always have. As a child, I used to read everything that came into my field of vision: the place names flashing by on Sundays as we drove from
An English lecturer at a small German university, I help students learn to use the English language, so that they have a fair chance as participants in the hectic global race. Coming to class bright-eyed and full of future plans, they bravely struggle their way through the "is and ares", the "would you nots?" and shed some blood and tears trying to get their tongues around the difficult English "th"-sound: "The six thick Smith sons still hang on to their money and guns. They stole it all those terrible thugs to sell and deal with booze and drugs." (J Having to compete with "CSI:
Language is only one of a myriad of sign systems the human race has developed to express our thoughts and feelings, needs and desires and to regulate others and their activities. We also use numbers, pictures, gestures, paintings, movements, road signs, clothes and make-up – to name only a few of the means through which we send messages into the world. Language, however, is the most widely used of them all and probably therefore also the one used most carelessly.
I am sometimes deeply saddened by people's choice of words or lack of them. Nobody likes to hear: "You shouldn't have done that! It was really stupid!" or "Why can't you just for once do what I ask you to?" and everybody loves to hear "Good morning! How are you today?" and "Thank you very much!" And still, I often hear the first two string of words and regularly miss the latter two. I suspect that people take language and its power for granted, because it is so commonly available to us. Most people are blessed with the ability to hear and talk. Far fewer can express themselves through movement, like dancers do, or through colours, compositions and brush strokes, like painters can.
But words, if used lovingly and reflectively, can have an immensely positive impact, because they are understood by such a wide audience. Words can help us heal: we use them to comfort others and as a means to channel poison out of our system. Who has not felt the warmth flowing from a friend's sympathetic words: "I am so sorry to hear about your dad. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."? And who has not felt the relief after a talk with the hairdresser or bartender in which one allowed oneself to talk one's sorrows right off one's heart. (Bless those wonderful people who play the role of soundboards in our society, absorbing all the negative energy sometimes locked up in our words and may they have a way of cleaning their own souls from all the debris we dump on the platforms they so lovingly offer us).
Words can be used to impart useful information and much needed wisdom, to teach and to entertain, to connect and to show respect, to pray and to praise, to inquire and to inspire.
I have found three ways to regularly remind myself of the power of words and improve my ability to work wonders with them. The first is by practicing the science of silence. I deliberately create pockets of time each day in which I am surrounded by nothing but a sea of quiet, only gently interrupted by the bobbing sound of a bird or my own breathing. I do not start a single day without at least thirty minutes of silent meditation during the early and peaceful hours of the morning. My lunch hour would be half less relaxing without the one third of it spent somewhere in a quiet corner of a restaurant or a park and driving home the radio remains switched off, so that my mind has space to think about the day and all it has held in for me. Words create mental and emotional spaces, because they trigger thoughts and feelings. Avoiding words every now and then is like going into an elegantly decorated room completely kept in off-white, where our minds can catch their breath, without having to react to a thousand colourful triggers. It is in these quiet spaces that we hear our souls speak.
Enjoying these moments of silence sharpen my awareness of the power of words: both to build and to break, so that when I use them, I try to use them carefully. Understanding that words always leave a trace somewhere in someone's heart and mind, my second way with words is best described by the words of Shakyamuni Buddha: "When you know something that is hurtful and untrue, do not say it. When you know something that is hurtful and true, do not say it. When you know something that is helpful and true, find the right time to say it." (Translated from the German "Worte des Dalai Lama", Heinrich Hugendubel Verlag, 2004, p. 49).
Words should be weighed before they are spoken or written, because they carry energy in them. Test this for yourself: become aware of the sensations in your body as you are listening to a special poem or an uplifting speech and compare these to what you are feeling, when you hear people shout at each other or swear. Words affect us, whether we are consciously aware of it or not. It is therefore not only important to mind your own language, but to also be selective in terms of the type of language to which you regularly expose yourself.
Sometimes, putting our anger, sadness and fears into words can be very healing, though. However, if these are directed at people, they work like bullets that sooner or later ricochet – hitting others very hard and you when you least expect it. Finding a deserted firing range and giving yourself the freedom of verbal trigger happiness on the other hand, can be a very effective way of using words towards your own sanity. I learnt my third word trick from Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" and Barbara Sher's "Wishcraft". In addition to a range of other wonderful exercises, Julia Cameron's book introduced me to the habit of "morning pages", while Barbara Sher's idea of a passionate gripe diary works wonders for my sanity. When I am sad or disappointed, angry or lost, I go to my deserted firing range – a red coach in a quiet corner of our yellow house. Armed with pen and paper, I write as fast and as much as my thoughts and emotions require. I fume and moan and scream and shout. I tease and tell and sob and yell. The uncontrolled stream of words work like knives cutting through the layers of ego until I reach the quiet pool of truth and clarity at my core. Obediently the words absorb my fears and misconceptions about the world, others and God, until only the truth remains – upon which I usually start laughing, because the truth has this wonderful tendency to be simple, beautiful and clear.
The power of language is truly am amazing gift. It enables us to express ourselves in emotionally moving, eloquent, nuanced, precise or humorous ways. For whichever purposes you might be using language today, may you be able to enjoy the magic of using your words lovingly – respecting your power and those of your words.
