I've listened to quite a few testimonies about near death experiences and something they all seem to have in common is this sudden keen awareness that our words really matter, that we actually have the power to speak things into existence, good or bad, and don't even realize it. We are far more significant and powerful then we realize. I have felt that truth too, that sense of surprise and regret about the things I've created with my words, often completely unaware.
When I was a teenager and some people were just discovering alcohol, it became glaringly apparent to me that diverse physiology was at play. Like, some people had clearly just met their new best friend. Those who had immediately bonded with alcohol would describe their exploits in oddly weird and romanticized language. "It was the coolest party ever, I spent the next four days praying to the porcelain God!"
Like dude, did you just tell me the best week of your life involved four days of vomiting???!
My brain would often struggle to try to resolve the paradox, to attempt to understand why there appeared to be such enthusiasm behind the hellish descriptions.
That is the power of narrative. You can literally make hell sound and feel good, you can rationalize, justify, and glorify the horrors of addiction. I remember one guy who eventually crashed his car, spent time in jail, and lost part of his foot, trying to tell me how wonderful it all was, just gnarly actually. Now of course he wasn't really trying to convince me, he was trying to convince himself. He was successful too and died long ago, in part from the power of his own narrative.
I don't know who said, "sticks and stone will break my bones but words will never hurt me," because in truth words will utterly destroy you and other people.
I can't see the whole picture, at the moment I see through the glass darkly, so I am not fully aware of how my own words may have hurt (or helped) myself and others. I have had a few close encounters of the God kind however, where one is just suddenly convicted and aware of their own behavior, words, and impact. Not for the faint of heart, I assure you. We all need access to heaps and heaps of grace.
As I've gotten older and more familiar with my own narratives, I've gotten much better at seeing them in others, too. Back when I was a teen ager, I had no idea that romantic narratives about addiction and how cool and gnarly it all was, was actually a rationalization, a rational lies. One need not be an addict to engage in this behavior, we all do it to some degree.
The fact that we can romanticize and rationalize hellish things mean we can also romanticize and rationalize heavenly things. We can speak heaven into existence, bring a whiff of it down to earth. This does not mean one should be happy about abuse or complacent about things one really can change. I simply mean our never ending complaining and lamenting can also become a self fulfilling narrative. Here where I live a couple of standard phrases are, "I hate my life" and "I have to go to work," the later being said with great resentment and resignation. "Have to," meaning it sucks and I haven't got a choice.
I do try to tackle those two particular grumblings when I hear them slipping out of other people with some grace and good humor. It is just that if you say "I hate my life" over and over again, you are going to find yourself living a life that is worthy of all that hatred. If one perceives their job as a miserable punishment, it is almost guaranteed to begin to feel like that.
It's not an easy thing either, one cannot just "put on a happy face and call it good," although sometimes that really does help. Sometimes part of it involves saying "thank you" even when you aren't feeling it or smiling when you aren't feeling it. Sometimes action proceeds feelings. Sometimes faking it until you feel it, works. It's not a recipe for life, it's a temporary band aid to get you through the next hour. The hard part is actually in recognizing our own narratives, identifying the pay off or reward that keeps us attached to them, and deciding to change it.
I am chuckling too, one golden rule is that, the problem is never other people. Of course if you are being robbed at gun point, you have very little control over the situation and the problem is totally other people. Some 99% of the time however, we are actually free and life provides us an abundance of choices.
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