Breaking Up Language

I have been often aware how the language I speak inside my own head can make for a defeating prison. Imprisoning words, born of limitation, cloth and color my thoughts, at last shape my out-loud speaking.

My self-talk–the voice of a critical, judging self–controls me, reflecting back who I think I am. Lord knows what sort of “me” people on the outside see?

For as long as I can remember I’ve been looking for ways out, for good relief; I believe I’ve found a sure-fire way for myself.

I’m learning how to relax into verbal surrender. I’ve been breaking my prison-house chains of language by making up my own languages.  It’s any sort of gibberish or non-sense, and it feels natural to me.

It’s a verbal, eruption break-out, driven by my exhaled breath–with utterances happening just as spontaneously as that.  At the instant that it happens I am aware of it; I am physically conscious of it, of how it feels in my mouth and throat, on my tongue. I enjoy its rhythms and stops. Its spaces for listening. By this talk, I express my sheer, natural happiness. Speaking this way feels like full communication.

I believe my dog understands me most, when I speak this way to him. I don’t count him a regular listener, since he listens more profoundly than any human I know. I’m convinced by how we connect, he knows the very me of me.

My cat understands me at my very simpliest. With my tongue I make a rising and falling pitched clicking sound, repeated, like he does, when excitedly he sees a bird close to the window, where he is sitting. His name I call is this clicking. He comes, sometimes.

Mostly, I address my “broken” non-sense speech into thin air, while in the middle of any activity, where no other humans are around. It appears when I need it most. Just before, I feel the situation is desperate.

When speaking happens, I sense that something of the invisible world has come closer and is more alive to me. Strangely, sometimes it can feel as if I am eavesdropping on an exchange which is not of myself at all; rather the “words” seem to issue from (and then return to) a host of invisible “others”, who are there and engaged happily (I should trust).

I guess I will be judged by others, by telling all of this in print. Sure thing, so I’m “off my nut”. It’s a wonderful madness. I feel blessed and powerful; humbled.

I’m committed to practicing this new liberation, letting it grow deeper roots. Come what highwater may.

Subtle worlds have opened to me, which I have never known. The invisible world seems more important than the visible. Life feels richer with my company of new companions in both worlds. I am happy, meeting myself for the first time. There’s no turning back.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s