I feel very much the fool, as if I have anything profound to offer in light of the unspeakable tragedies that have occurred in the past week alone. Sure, I have been writing my stories for quite a few years now and social media allows me to self-publish, which I have been doing quite religiously. However, I have no credentials that would make me feel as if I have some unique perspective that necessitates sharing.
I confess to being in love with words. Time after time, I sit in my favorite spot, with something gnawing for attention and I search for the words to try and make it sound as strong as it feels. I will read it over and over again, right after publishing it and then never go back to read it again. For some reason, my friend, Alex, decided to share a post I had written 2 years ago today, “Sam Shepherd died. I am going to Italy”. Aside from a somewhat slopping beginning, I really liked it. I was amazed at my choice of words and use of language.
The idea of wanting to share my stories with you is a feeling I have to own, but it will always feel somewhat audacious on my part. Seriously, who the fuck am I and what it is that makes me think I have anything worthwhile to share with you? For the record, it is precisely that feeling that makes me want to do the best job I can with the words I pluck out of my posterior.
A mass killing at a garlic festival sounds ridiculous, but it happened. A hatred of immigrants, crashing through our borders by the “millions” seems to have been reason enough for some white guy to spray death in to a crowd, close to our border. I don’t think the insanity behind the killings in Ohio has come forth yet. In the days ahead, there will be endless conversations about how we can fix THE problem, along with endless conversations about what THE problem is.
As a word lover, this is where the headwaters of the river of hatred and violence begins. This flows from one generation to the next. The language we use becomes the world we inhabit. The words we use today build into entire sentences and paragraphs of action for tomorrow. Our president should have his mouth washed out with soap and all of those, who sit in silence are no less culpable. Silence can be just as deadly as the voices of hatred and bigotry, if they simply allow it.
Words are contagious and they can elevate us or denigrate us. Hitler had his Jews. America has been living a lie for hundreds of years, but it has mostly been silent or subtle. The white Europeans, who took ownership of this country, have never been ones to share. They hid behind words for centuries, like the Bill of Rights and the Emancipation Proclamation. Desegregation was a magnificent idea, long overdue and still long overdue. The Statue of Liberty is inscribed with marvelous words, but statues have no hearts or memories. They just stand there, unmoved and unmovable.
The second amendment has remained sacred, words cast in the bullets of righteousness and fear of the other. It is possible we may actually have some token legislation to tighten the rules of ownership of these man killing machines. What makes this country so lethal is not simply the hate twisted words, it is the easy means to inflict catastrophic harm on the targets of these hateful words. However, make no mistake, it starts with the words.
I am shameless in my admiration of the Buddha and one of his beauties is the interconnectedness of all things, past, present and future. Our vocabulary looms large in this idea that is about as close to God as you can get. The words we use is the voice of our hearts. Our hearts wither and die without love and the language of hatred strangles it. I will keep a watchful eye on what I say, more today than yesterday.