Words

A few days ago a word came to mind and brought with it such an immediate and personal association that I have to write about it. I was feeling apologetic about something I'd done earlier in the day but hadn't had a chance yet to talk with my husband about it, and I thought of the word "rueful." I quickly then thought the following: "Nancy Drew was always 'rueful.' Boy I used to wish I was Nancy Drew - strawberry blonde hair, smart, always being kidnapped and then rescued by her bland but loyal boyfriend Ned." Why was she rueful? Her sleuthy ways usually wound up getting her caught in a ravine or in some other kind of mortal danger. She never stopped seeking out mystery and adventure, but she was always rueful about it when she found herself in over her spunky strawberry blonde head. "Rueful" isn't a word I've ever used much outloud, nor do I think I've ever written it before now, but it's obviously high on my internal vocabulary list and has had this lasting memory attached to it since I was five years old and read Carolyn Keene books. It's not even my favorite word, but I still remember it, and it quietly comes up a lot.

My truly favorite words don't actually get used much outloud either. In the privacy of my mind it's a close race between "paradox" and "juxtapose", but the former definitely wins. Apart from its marvelous sound, the meaning of "paradox" is most appealing to me - something that is true and untrue, or two things that shouldn't both be true somehow, or opposites that make perfect sense. It reminds me of "dilemma" where there is no clear right or wrong choice, only two choices that may both be right or wrong to some greater or lesser degree. It's life in the nuance of velvety gray, instead of stark black or white. There is a monologue in the musical The Fantastiks in which the narrator character uses the word "paradox" to describe why people in close relationships need distance, a wall between them, or sometimes even a hurt, so love can continue to flourish. I can still hear my high school sweetheart speaking the line.

Words are powerful. They store a lot. Many years ago, my English teacher Mr. DuBlois shared an anecdote about a college classmate of his named Kenny (I think that was his name - it has been 20 years since I heard this). When they were in a lecture together, Mr. DuBlois would write copious notes to be sure to remember all the pertinent details for exam time. Kenny would sit listening throughout the lecture, and then at the end would write one word in his notebook to summarize the entire class. This small story was mythological-sized for me, one reason being that it pointed out the weight-bearing ability of a well-chosen word.

Words can change us. The old childhood na-nee na-nee boo boo saying that went, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me" is ridiculous. As a domestic violence trainer, I talk all the time about how emotional and verbal abuse can cause harm to an equal or greater extent than a fist. I know all of us can remember a time, maybe even from 20+ years ago, when someone said something that was so cutting and unjust that we can still picture the scene, what we were wearing, what was said, and how. I was in 8th Grade math class when I suggested to my teacher Mr. Pinkham another way of talking through a problem written on the board. He turned toward me, or turned on me, held out the long white piece of chalk he carried and said in a loud and sarcastic tone, "Maybe you'd like to teach the whole class?" I burst out crying and felt deeply ashamed and sorry I'd spoken. I still go ouch somewhere inside me when I think of that time so long ago. And how much worse these kinds of things damage us when they are said to us by a loved one, over and over and over at close range. It still shocks my heart when I remember that I was once engaged to a man who repeatedly called me "the most manipulative bitch he'd ever met." I am not someone who believes those words anymore, but I will always be someone who did once, because it was said to me by someone I mistakenly trusted.

Words also alter and bind me in more positive ways. I will forever remember the first moments of my wedding, in which my husband-to-be Matthew opened the ceremony by saying to our small group of guests, "Today is our wedding day." He suddenly bowed his head for a moment to compose himself because his voice caught as he spoke. That day and the words we spoke to each other began this unique time in my life, these best two years to date, being joyfully married and blessed with a healthy, hilarious baby boy. Matthew and I wrote our wedding vows together ahead of time, and chose our words carefully, trying to match them to our intentions for our relationship.

I love words. I think when they are used for good, they can ease people through even the most tight or uncomfortable spot. An intimate conversation, or a celebratory poem, or a burst of writing, can make the most tough situation for me start to go down like a cool glass of water. Words are such a small part of communication, and are so small compared to deed, but they not only serve to enliven and illuminate my reality, they transform it.