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| Pencil poised ready to write |
Communication is hard. Verbal, non-verbal, written, performed, painted, or otherwise portrayed. English, French, doesn't matter. It's all hard.
As a writer I used to feel as though I'd failed when something I wrote was misunderstood. Tens of people would understand*, and then one person wouldn't, and I'd feel I'd failed. I hadn't peaked as a communicator yet.
*I was tempted to write "hundreds of people would understand" but let's
be honest, I never had hundreds of people reacting openly to my writing.
That's okay! It's more manageable this way!
How silly of me! Pay attention for any amount of time to the world around us and we see communication is always imperfect, even when done perfectly. Did I think I had some magical power of writing that could transcend all others? <--- no, but I've wished it.
All of our readers, listeners, neighbors, family and friends, are engaged in their own interpretations based on experiences, level of understanding or intelligence, specific interests in the moment, mood, prejudices, agendas. We are, they are, the world is.
It is one of the wonderful wonders of attempting to communicate. And it is also one of the hardest parts.
Having four autistic brothers who were impacted by the disorder in varying degrees, I grew up craving some sort of device that would allow me to understand them. And for them to understand me. "I love you, but please stop jumping and screaming and making everyone stare at us," I wanted them to know. "Why do you wrap your lips around hot tailpipes?" I wanted to understand.
The jumping and screaming, the lips on hot tailpipes, there were reasons for those (confession: my mom had to teach me that. I actually thought the reason was "they are autistic" and am forever grateful that my mom insisted we explore further) and there were reasons for them to learn which were okay where and which were terribly dangerous. But, communication is hard.
For absolute certain, though, it is worth practicing. It is worth teaching. It is worth honing.
There is a saying: It isn't enough to write so you will be understood. You have to write so you can't be misunderstood.
It is a lovely idea, but if you gauge your ability and success as a communicator by needing to be entirely and always understood, you will lose.
Debates about the meaning of words and art by the greatest communicators are forever engaging interested minds. Not because the communication was poorly executed but because we all understand different things differently. It is a guaranteed product of this desire we have to connect!
I think, instead, it is worthwhile to communicate with clarity. To practice being clear and meaning what you say. To not adjust the meaning in order to be applauded or appreciated, though we will adjust the methods and style.
There is a Lily Tomlin quote I love: We are all in this alone.
It reminds us we are all here, but we are never able to not be alone in ourselves. At least, that what it communicates to me. Who knows what Lily Tomlin actually meant?
Maybe not even Lily Tomlin!
That's the other thing. We can be clear, we can say what we mean and then change and grow and no longer know what we meant.
But now, in this moment of infinity, as we try to communicate, we can practice being clear and meaning what we say.
And that is what I'm trying to say.
