Why Our Words Have Meaning



This post is one of the most cut-to-the-chase, insightful posts I have ever read (by my friend Nora, who is awesome, but the piece would be just as striking to me if I did not know her). Take a minute to read it. I'll wait.

…

Ok, you're back. Hopefully you're bowled over — I was, and I can identify with the experience because it happens to me All The Time. Maybe you've never thought of it that way before, and now you are, and that's cool too.

But hey, if you're one of the many (and I am sure there are some of these in the comments to her original post by now, I haven't looked because I have learned that my cardinal rule of life is "Don't read the comments"), who is still thinking "What's the big deal? He didn't even know he said anything. He was just trying to be nice" — I challenge you to reconsider. Hard.

Our words have meaning. Everything we say. When I present something for a client, what I say and how I say it is every bit as important as the data I am giving them. When I snap at my daughter without thinking, it can wound her for days and affect everything else she does. Ninety-nine percent of my disagreements with my husband come from communication misunderstandings. And those instances are from people I have relationships with, who can at least take my words in a general context.

What you say matters (even if you are a jerk). So own that power. Make it matter. Only say what you mean — and then 100% mean what you say.

And never, ever, tell anyone to "just smile" out of context. (However, if it's something like "Smile, because I love you and here's some chocolate and I just got us tickets for Hamilton tonight and our plane leaves in 90 minutes" I will accept it!)


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Brutus

Image
In 2019, we were on our way back from spring break when Cheryl, who Beatrix had interned with at GiffyDog, reached out to us about fostering a pomeranian (since she knew Beatrix loved the breed). The day we got back, the person who had been fostering him brought him over. Brutus sauntered in, grabbed a rawhide as long as he was that Coya had been chewing, and settled in next to me in the chair. Patrick says "I knew at that point he was never leaving." And he didn't. He got the name "Brutus Brewpup" when, as we initially had him and thought we should expose him to people who might want to adopt him, we took him out to a taproom and found he LOVED it. Pretty soon, taking him to taprooms turned into a regular pastime. But he liked other things too. He loved Christmas: And Halloween: And springtime: And snow, especially the first snowfall: And really winter in general: He loved to go up to the cabin (and I'm so glad we got to go up this last weekend): And to sun
Read more

New Year's Eve 2023

Image
I did not want to be laying in bed, wearing a fleece onesie and still shivering, while my husband and daughter headed out to the several wonderful NYE parties we have planned. I have a beautiful new dress that I got in Duluth for tonight, and was looking forward to the collection of friends we would be seeing. Our friend Whitney in particular is throwing the last party at her B and B, and it's breaking my heart not to go. But I feel logey and coughy, and more to the point, I have a low fever, and I don't want to mess around with possibly getting anyone sick. I'm still holding out hope that I'll miraculously feel better and the fever was a mistaken reading, but I doubt that. And I feel lucky to have 3 sets of people who want me in their lives tonight and who I don't want to get sick. As our yoga teacher Viv says, it's not like a page turns and everything is magic. You get some things that are good, and some that are not, and life is living in the middle. -- In 20
Read more

Choosing Happy

Image
This post is brought to you by a few thoughts from yesterday: First and foremost, Patrick's new book that he wrote for Beatrix for her sixteenth birthday. Available for a hot second before we leave for spring break tomorrow. The response of someone he knows on the internet, who wrote yesterday that he had decided years ago that he would never be happy (and reading his posts, he seems to be right.). It was one of the saddest things I've encountered in a long time. A friend's social media post, in which she discusses another person's comment of " I really think a sizable proportion of the population has become addicted to being angry" with the sage response of " I think a lot of them are doing it because it's more enjoyable to be angry than to be depressed." A nd we finally finished watching this season's Fargo last night. I won't give any spoilers, but it's extremely on theme with this post. So this is the deal. There's a lot on
Read more