1. one of the units of speech or writing that native speakers of a language usually regard as the smallest isolable meaningful element of the language, although linguists would analyse these further into morphemes related adjective lexical verbal
2. an instance of vocal intercourse; chat, talk, or discussion: to have a word with someone
3. an utterance or expression, esp a brief one: a word of greeting
(British Dictionary definitions for word)
Where would we be without them?!
Silly question possibly.
Thought provoking nonetheless.
How far we’ve come since our ability to use and form words.
I love words.
I love the way they envelope me and transport me to another place.
I love too, how inadequate they are at times, in expressing being enveloped and transported to said other place.
In fact, upon reading the above definition and prior to my actual and serious illness (where I lost my ability to speak for about six months), I would have diagnosed myself, as suffering from an incurable case of verbal diarrhoea. Why use one word, when I could use many, many words? Again and again and again!
Upon further investigation, in getting to the root cause of my infliction, I’ve since re-diagnosed my condition and am now one hundred percent certain I have the life awakening virus called…vocal intercourse. Where one desires to chat, talk and converse – deeply, getting to the heart of what really matters most, for the evolution of our species as a whole. Well I do anyway.
Surface dwelling be gone.
Starting with me.
Really, come on, what was I thinking?
Who’d ever willingly give themselves diarrhoea?
Especially when intercourse is on the table (yes winking as I’m writing this).
No brainer really.
Rewiring has begun.
As a woman who loves words and being the wordsmith I am of sorts, this is me diving back into the choppy waters of the linguistic ocean. The written word. My words. From my perspective, from the life, I live and breathe each day.
At times you may find pleasure from this vocal intercourse we share together.
Understand, at times you may not.
It’s all okay.
As much as I love words. I love freedom: in thinking, in feeling, in being, just as much, if not more.
My life is my own.
My choices therefore are my own as well.
As too are my experiences, perceptions, definitions, values, beliefs and so forth.
Therefore you being you, and not me, you are left to your own devices.
So please, take what you like from this trip we’re about to embark upon, the island of me, Lyndal Island, in the land of, my words, taken from my being and ditch the rest.
Yes, that’s right, ditch the rest!
You don’t like what I have to say, don’t.
Don’t buy in to it.
Don’t let it trigger you.
Take responsibility for your self.
And let them go.
For you did not say them, write them, nor even think them.
It does not mean I’m wrong (unless of course I’ve clearly made a mistake, I’m not incapable of making them and I’ll happily admit to when I have). It simply means our options differ.
I do however ask of you to be open, reflective, and sincere of self. Whilst respecting the interjections I propose from afar.
What I know to be real, everything is in motion, a constant flux. What I knew to be true yesterday, over a period of decades, does not mean it is true for me today. We think we know so much. It’s how much we don’t know that’s the phenomena we call life.
Please understand its all okay. All of it. Yours, mine, our likenesses, our difference, our truths. They’re all okay.
In present time, I have no idea where this new realm of words, from the island of me, is going to disembark. Or if there’ll even be, an us.
I simply know, I’m ready to dip my toes in again and get wet.
For my own adventure, for my own self.
You’re welcome to join me.
If you so choose.