Words and water

All day long, we are given choices as to the words we use. We behave as though words were inevitable, and sometimes we spout them out like a fountain spouts water. But in reality, we are not fountains, and the shape of what we say is not inevitable. It is very much up to us.

Some of us fire our words at other people like police fire a water cannon. We express our wishes directly, quickly, and without regard to the person at the other end. Some of us have bosses like that, who bark comments and demands without the restraint and sensitivity that empathy provides.

Some of us say almost nothing at all, scared into silence by the memories of a strict parent, or a bad experience with the authorities, or by trauma or abuse. We choose to keep it all inside, rather than trust an untrustworthy world to hold our feelings and do something nice with them.

Some of us use words like a garden hose, bringing freshness to stale conversations, and offering opportunities for the growth of things that languish without attention.

Some of us are like a watering can, and use words sparingly, but judiciously, just where they are needed, relieving suffering carefully, without waste.

How do you use words? What do you use them for? To clean and clarify? To protect yourself? To feed and nurture others? To stimulate engagement and interest?

We are not static pipes or fountains. The shape of our conversation is up to us. As humans, we have a choice. We can moderate our choice of words to match what we want to create. We can spread happiness or sadness, energy or relaxation, kindness or anger, simply with what we decide to say. Our next spoken sentence will give away what we wish to create, the direction we want our world to go in.

Choose wisely.