Words are like snowflakes. Each has qualities unique only to itself — the shape, the form, the intent, and the individuality. I love how a thought can be shaped by such subtle suggestions as font. You question this? What do you think when you see the lightning bolt in Harry Potter’s logo?
I revere words to the point that I recently read a book on how Roget developed the thesaurus, which turned about to be rather interesting since it involved both death and insanity. Thus, making the phrase true: “Whoever came up with this was crazy.” To hang on to his sanity in a family of metal instability problems, Roget’s life consisted of categorizing everything. He made lists upon lists, which went far beyond my daily to-do items with which I harbor a love-hate relationship.
Imagine a man so invested in synonyms that the word ambitious is sub-divided into categories to include both determined and grand: So, do I state that Julius Ceasar was ambitious or was he a determine go-getter dictator who was a ruthless, striving, pushy, motivated, aspiringly single-minded may with grand, impressive and bold, large-scale elaborate and magnificent plans?
Without a thesaurus my world narrows into a dull, lightless void: my writing lacks precision and the pictures my words create lack a crispness of vision in the in the mind of the reader.
On the other hand, the dictionary, while certainly helpful with the fact that every word is available, leaves me a better speller, but befuddled. The trick is not knowing the words, it’s putting them in the right order and eliminating those, that while beautiful on their own, are like trees. They add to the overall concept of the forest but not to the clarity of the woods.
We abuse words, maybe more so in speaking rather than writing. Certain words like love we toss about like a nerf football using it in every part of speech. We “love that chicken from Popeye’s” and we’re “lovin’ it at McDonalds.” It is considered polite when someone declares their love to us, to respond in kind whether we mean it or not. In prison, everybody loves everybody. Rarely does one walk in the main corridor without hearing two women toss the words “love you” back and forth.
I would like to say I choose my words wisely and share my thoughts sparingly, but that is not true. Words frequently escape my lips before I can call them back. As we all know, words can easily wound as well as bolster and all of us have a tape playing in our heads stating our inadequacies. Do we really need more help from the outside?
In the future, I’ve decided I would rather be cherished than loved, thoughtful over witty, and kindhearted above all else. | HB
"In the future, I’ve decided I would rather be cherished than loved, thoughtful over witty, and kindhearted above all else." These words seem to me to be the right words in the right order. This is a deeply thoughtful essay. Thank you!