often words are no words. meaning: they don’t mean what the heart means. trying so hard.. to listen to/for that..
what is legible ness.. who decides
quiet enough ness
Chris Luchsinger experiment
What if the words we use to describe emotions limit our understanding of ourselves as much as using Roman numerals crippled European math?
Phytophile (@phytophilemusic) tweeted at 4:48 AM – 22 Sep 2016 :
@pigworker @leashless what about new languages? or perhaps this is why we have music, art, and other multimedia. (http://twitter.com/phytophilemusic/status/778908815337095168?s=17)
begs we embrace means we have today to let idio jargon approach limit of infinity…
means for 7bill.. new everyday ness..that io dance
‘It is not so much the other man’s words as his silences which we have to learn in order to understand him.’ (Illich)..Ivan Illich, ‘The Eloquence of Silence’ in ‘Celebration of Awareness’ (1971)
“There are many fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout,” Henry David
Of the nine kinds of silence that Sontag’s contemporary and friend Paul Goodman outlined, “the fertile silence of awareness, pasturing the soul” is the kind we seem to have most hastily forsaken — and yet it is also the one we most urgently need if we are to reclaim the aesthetic of silence in the art of living.
The next morning, he arrives at school before everyone else and sits down to read a story, which absorbs him so wholly that he is transported to the elusive place he had been searching for all along.
Suddenly, in the middle of a page, he heard it. No sounds of footsteps, no people chattering, no radios, no bamboo, no kotos being tuned. In that short moment, Yoshio couldn’t even hear the sound of his own breath. Everything felt still inside him. Peaceful, like the garden after it snowed. Like feather-stuffed futons drying in the sun. Silence had been there all along.
In that moment, he learns what we so easily forget: that silence is not the absence of sound but the presence of an inward-listening awareness, an attunement of the mind’s ear and an orientation of the spirit toward a certain inner stillness — perhaps the positive counterpoint to loneliness, which so often thrives amid the crowd
no words ness
from nic askew newsletter – by chris mcleod [http://campaign.r20.constantcontact.com/render?m=1101043267358&ca=c8f2b255-1c81-45d5-a0e0-e55269b3d16e]:
most meaningful experiences have something in common. words are not enough. something is always lost when we attempt to explain… the language we use somehow confines what we feel. i’m somehow aware that the language i am so sued to using always has an undercurrent of finality…
by being still. by allowing myself to be seen. by surprising myself about what i notice about others when i lose the stories that i’ve told myself.. by allowing myself to know that here in this moment i am enough.. i can be here.. i am here
as simple as ‘being here’ sounds, it means that i am not thinking about ‘there’.. being here means .. this is enough.. ‘this is enough’ means i can trust the feeling that i can’t explain. trust it and not need to explain it..
and that is the most liberating feeling i may have ever experienced..
from kay young in nic‘s 11.18.19 monday newsletter:
i saw less.. ask less.. plan less.. and i feel more and notice more..
from Elaine Scarry’s the body in pain:
thus pain comes unsharably into our midst as at once that which cannot be denied and that which cannot be confirmed..
whatever pain achieves, it achieves in part thru its unsharability and it ensure this unsharability thru its resistance to language..
‘english’ writes virginia woolf ‘which can express… has no words for the shiver of the headache.. let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a dr and language at once runs dry’.. physical pain does not simply resist language but actively destroys it.. bringing about an immediate reversion to a state anterior to langue, to the sounds/cries a human being makes before language is learned
Solitude is for me a fount of healing which makes my life worth living. Talking is often torment for me, and I need many days of silence to recover from the futility of words. ~Carl Jung