Words | scribblechic

silence

February 4, 2016 § 4 Comments

It is my favorite sound. Second only to my children’s laughter or our pup’s eager paws scrambling an anxious greeting.

Peace pregnant with ideas that move fluidly in the space between speech; truth we hold tightly against the brashness of daylight, like a sacred mantra of self.

In my stillness I am more intuitive, less responsive to my surroundings; more attune to a gentler voice.

This week I can feel the conflict of thought against the noise of the mundane, the friction of demands that interrupt a sanctity of silence.

Words like promises on the tip of my tongue, lost to a language of busy distractions.

Rather than wrestle the noise, I am moving more stubbornly within it; reaching just past the cacophony for quiet.

There have been days a word eludes me, I feel the shape of its meaning and the taste of its letters on my tongue, but there is no sound. It has become, perhaps, my greatest fear; the loss of words that have so long been my companions.

I wonder in these moments of panicked clarity at what I might not say; if words like memories can disappear, might I lose myself in their silence?

Then, as if one fear invites another, I begin to sound out forgotten memories for the texture of my past. Years and words like sharp consonants and long vowels giving shape to self in defiance of silence.

the weight of silence

January 24, 2013 § 2 Comments

For the last two evenings I have been reading a book with my daughter whose characters have gifted us insight into the weight of silence. A young man born without the gift of speech created a dialogue of silence that has settled into a thoughtful distraction.

I often think of silence as a living organism that fills space and noise with value. Without the delicate balance of silence, sound would be hollow.

Today my mind was preoccupied by the thoughts we shape into words, crafted with intent, and the words we steal away for ourselves into silence. Words of comfort we do not share, apologies we hide beneath defensiveness, honesty cloaked in polite clichés. Of course there are also those words whose harm is more damaging than silence.

Recently another’s words and silence have allowed me a glimpse of truth reflected in the space between us. I think of the words I wish I could take back and those I wish I could have shaped into sound beside the words they’ve chosen, all the while realizing the lessons I have gained in self and friendship.

It is a small moment. Nothing novel or noisy in its truth, but a timely reminder and a moment of clarity at a well placed intersection in my life.

open

December 30, 2011 § 5 Comments

A close friend and I were exchanging messages this morning over our word choices for the 2012 One Little Word project on Ali Edwards blog. I could hear the strength of my friend’s selection through the lines of her message. I shared my uncertainty, pledging to remain open.

I wrote briefly today about this exercise in choosing one word to embrace the New Year. Then I set aside my laptop and busied myself with other projects attempting to remain untethered to a blinking cursor, dismissing a self-imposed pressure to make a choice.

Later, in a frivolous moment of quiet, I began to read familiar blogs. The word open seemed to wink at me from another’s sharing. Its four tiny letters eclipsed the other words as I read, beckoning me to look closer.

Tucked inside my friend’s earlier messages today was a quote. The universe is conspiring in your favor. She had been sharing a beautiful sentiment that spoke to her, but I was reading tiny markers coded in personal meaning.

Open.

Perhaps my word is claiming me, gently directing me; challenging me to open my mind and heart to possibility. Asking me to be receptive to outside influences. Inspiring me to embrace life, love, forgiveness, change. Calling me to step outside a place of comfort and permitting me space to try new things and take action.

I am reminded of two quotes I wear close to my heart on simple silver charms:

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. Emerson

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined. Thoreau

Open up, draw strength from within, and move forward with confidence towards your heart’s desires. Open; a small unpretentious word that seems to stretch endlessly encompassing unlimited possibility.

one word

December 30, 2011 § 1 Comment

Today I want to share three blogs, acknowledge three women, and embrace one word. Lisa Leonard. Brené Brown. Ali Edwards. Women whose thoughts and creativity resonate like happy echos in my heart. One blog reading into another, guiding me on a new journey. Inspiration tumbling like dominos; word by word.

Last year I happened upon Ali Edwards invitation of One Little Word to name a wish for myself for the coming year. My word called to me, whispering a personal truth. Write: for joy, for clarity, to document, and to share. My spirit soared on wings written across an endless sky.

This year, I am overwhelmed with choices. Words gather on my tongue like snowflakes. Quiet. Passion. Balance. Strength. Create. Move. Change.

Rather than listing resolutions, I am reaching for One Little Word to center me for the year ahead. What is your word?

hate

November 22, 2011 § 1 Comment

It is a little word that settles between actions, intentions, innuendo, and speech. Hateful words seep into the cracks of self-doubt, insecurity, unhappiness and push forcefully against the strength of self-esteem. My husband and I build invisible walls of self-respect around our children and then watch mindfully for signs of stress, tiny cracks in the mortar.

Yesterday a group of children used hateful words, pelting them against my son’s esteem like chunks of rock against brick leaving scars against his spirit. He knew the words were false, but the harm could not be undone. My husband and I set aside our sadness and anger, meeting our son’s confusion and hurt with honesty and truth. The words were unacceptable, inappropriate, ugly, and hurtful. We named the pain and then nurtured the wound, gathering our son close and listening while he processed the harm in a place of strength. He measured his worth and named the unkindness, marking the moment as an ugliness centered in others; his self-esteem greater than the weight of another’s words.

I will not dwell on my grief, but I will acknowledge the sadness I could not shake. It followed me intimately shadowing my movements and filling up my light with darkness. I let it sit inside my voice when I called the school and spoke to teachers; sharing the burden of responsibility, gathering witnesses to that unseen, holding each of us within my son’s days accountable for this invisible scar to his spirit.

literally speaking

November 5, 2011 § Leave a comment

My son has a tendency for literal definitions. The other day, when asked how he was, he told my friend he was gay. Out loud, in a middle school hallway, he outed himself as happy. A week later, he used the word gay in a classroom and was reprimanded. I am now struggling to determine how to explain context and innuendo appropriately for my literally speaking son.

My conflict rests between definitions and defining. My son’s original understanding of “happy” is not incorrect, but to others may not feel appropriate for reasons outside my son’s comprehension. A peer explained to my son that gay is when two boys like one another. My son likes lots of friends, some of them boys. Literally, the second definition is missing something too, but my son does not yet know about the birds and the bees and I am not sure either of us is ready for that conversation. So how do I approach the unspoken innuendo without supplementing context outside my son’s knowledge?

To add another layer of complexity, I like that my son doesn’t define people by color, faith, or sexual preference. I am hesitant to begin dividing people into categories to explain a misinterpretation. I am lost in translation, literally.

Where Am I?