Walking words, talking words, coming words, going words. Moving words, grooving words, singing words, ringing words. Words.
My mind was a lounge for them. They were always around, running to and fro, making themselves available when they were needed, and when they weren’t. Here is where they felt at home, bustling about, doing chores, or just sitting around and chatting.
The more of them I had, the more sophisticated I was. So I built more rooms for the new generation, and lounge chairs to welcome those who were moving in. I made beds and rocking chairs for my old timers; those that had been here for a while.
If ever I’d need the slightest help from even one of them, there’d be half a dozen clamoring, vying for my attention, each begging, ‘Use me!’ They would push and struggle against a current of their friends and colleagues, each one dying to be first in line. But I’m not one to discipline; I allowed them their competition. And so, they would all come tumbling out in what could only have been an impressive display of intellect.
Mind you, this didn’t happen once in a while. This was a regular occurrence, minute by minute, perceptive moment by perceptive moment. And as such, I must have been considered one of the most intellectual young men around. One who could discuss a single subject for hours on end, one who could delve into the inner recesses of profundity itself. One whose wellspring of words would never go dry.
Then the journey of my life began. And as I travel along the great highway of change, I find habits and behaviors fall to the wayside, abandoned in the dust of the past. So it is, with every step I take, another word is lost.
By now, I no longer host the multitudes waiting to be deployed. Now my mind is clean. My thoughts are clear. My tongue is calm. My words are few. And life is quiet.
I no longer listen to my own noise. I listen to a grieving heart instead.
I no longer live within me. I now enjoy the simple sounds of tranquility, blossoming everywhere I look.
Try it. The beauty of small may surprise you.
2 comments:
I'll tell you, words scare the heaven out of me!
And I'll tell you why, too.
As a Jew, I believe that all Jews should think in Hebrew. Even if I can't speak it for fear of saying something that wasn't in the plan, still one of hebrew heritage should think in Hebrew.
Well, not being one to mince words, I think in Hebrew. Words like To Love A Felloe Jew are in my brain VeAhavta Lereacha Kamocha. Whoa. That's a whole different thing write there. Cuz Veahavta doesn't have to mean Love. It can also mean Like.
Hey, it's easy to love every Jew. But You're asking me to LIKE every Jew? That's a real step!
And that's why words scare me.
Cuz the Hebrew word is MILAH.
Need I say more?
wow that was really really proufound like so many times while reading it i was thinking man it couldnt have been said better!!! its really nice to see when your are thinking something but you cant actully put it in to WORDS so to see someone else be able to is really ... AWESOME!!!!!
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