the way we talk

Landed, as I have, in these foreign countries – and surrounded as I am now by so many different languages – I have recently given some thought to communication, and the way we talk.

Listening to Dutch and German, Czech and Italian, I am continually amazed by the fact that these series of sounds emitted from the body have translated into effective means of communication, that vary none-the-less from country-to-country and oftentimes therein. How odd we must sound to each other! And yet we each speak the same words, express the same fundamental needs and desires.

We tourists especially have our own language – a certain signing, if you will – universally understood, though if not at times begrudgingly accepted. “Check, please” is a scribbling gesture in the air. “Restaurant” is the shoveling of food to the mouth. “Hotel” is the folding of hands under head. “Bathroom” is a little more difficult and potentially embarrassing to enact in public, but usually gets the point across. And these signs, I have to think, are universally understood because they are fundamental needs felt by all, and so sympathized and recognized by all.

This contemplation of communication has led me to a deeper consideration of interpersonal talk, especially on a more intimate level. I was recently shown an article about communication between physicians and the elderly, and how often what is assumed – perhaps due to prejudice or preconceived ideas – may irreparably damage the physician-patient relationship. Older adults, though perfectly capable of expressing themselves, will often withhold information or hesitate in communication if the physician initially treats them as “unique” or “special” patients: that is, as if the elderly – due to their advanced years – are in some way handicapped by age. It is an unfortunate occurrence, but one which I suspect happens far too frequently.

And I wonder, on an even more intimate level, how many relationships have suffered – or ended – because of what was left unsaid, or what was assumed. After all, what is an assumption, in so many cases, if not an excuse – a way to cover up or justify something done or forgotten? A way, at times, to avoid confrontation?

I have vowed in all my relationships to be honest and completely open – and because I do not enter these things lightly, I believe such respect is called for. Sometimes I am hurt – sometimes I hurt others; sometimes the honesty is reciprocated, oftentimes it is ignored. Swept under. And I have known some who think it better not to address or acknowledge cracks in the foundation – but I can’t do this, I can’t live in a house fit to fall. And I don’t mean the small things – the white lies – I mean the things that keep you up at night, tossing from one side to the other of your pillow.

Honesty, I think, is healthy and necessary – and though it may cause momentary suffering, ultimately cannot be scorned. It is respectful, and sincere. We sail through life as ships in a sea of experience – at times we dock, at times we hail other ships and share concerns and stories. And all we can hope to be in life is a good, sincere, and honest captain of our own vessel – respectful of those we keep close; respectful of those linked, in whatever way, to the pursuit of our own end. And all we can hope to do in life is touch the lives of others, if for but a moment, and leave the better off for touching.

And I think it has become my philosophy to never settle in life, or in love. Both can be so short, and fleeting, if blindly spent – so quickly shattered and sunk. Perhaps I am an Ahab – perhaps this white whale will ultimately be my undoing. But still I give chase because of the principle of the thing - because it is the only thing I see, the only thing really worth pursuing in this great wide frothy ocean.

And so I’ll sail on, hailing ship after ship until I hear word of my aim – and then, with passion, pursue.