There is a gnawing weariness, a fatigue that settles not in the body but in the weight of speech. As the years roll by, I see how much of who we are is poured out into what we say and how we say it. Not just our words but all the little inflections and intonations may serve as deflections or self-justifications. When the words are thoroughly sifted, the majority of my speech is either hollow chatter or self-serving discourse.
So often do these words serve as tools to manipulate, to draw or deflect attention, to justify or elevate myself or to mould someone’s opinion of me or of others. A vibrant verbal landscape of carefully scattered facts in a melody of small talk designed to move those around me according to my purposes.
And the true heartbreak is that I possess no internal strength to quell this constant quiet puffery. Although I’m not one to run off at the mouth, the small volume of words I do speak point relentlessly to ME, often times in a total disregard of those around me.
The tongue has an impulsive acceleration that leaves the conscious will trailing behind in the dust and wreckage.
I yearn to cleanse my speech, for it to be intentional & selective for the good of others. I wish to listen a hundredfold more than I talk. To deliberately forfeit the opportunity to put myself on the centre stage and use my voice only to help others be seen, known and loved until it becomes second nature. Until the admonition in Ephesians becomes one that does not make me squirm internally.
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. 32 Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:29-32)
Perhaps the way forward to is to start with elimination, rather than a full out attack on my verbiage, that I will surely lose. If I could train myself to stay silent and to only talk when called upon, I can forfeit the opportunity to sully myself further.
In this moment, I’m little more than a clanging gong, a simple resonance; a sound lacking true substance of love because I am turned inwards, consumed by an isolating self-love. Silence may be the only way to create space for something real in the spirit of St. John the Baptist; “He must become greater; I must become less.” (John 3:30)