When Words Are Too Much

Originally published at KarenVernon.net on June 11, 2022

You may have noticed I’ve been quiet in this space lately. Sometimes, it’s been because my creative writing pursuits are taking me in directions that don’t invite a blog post; I’ve been working on the poetry I mentioned earlier, even preparing a few pieces in hopes of submitting them for publication.

But here, I’ve been quiet in a new way. For “a girl who loves words, and the power they have to touch us in unexpected ways,” (as I say in my website’s intro), it’s been distressing to me that I haven’t been moved to share any reflections or even summon some much-needed humor and put it out into the world.

It’s no wonder I, and so many, have found that words fail us in the face of the horrors in Uvalde and Buffalo, the life-changing devastation in Ukraine, the economic struggles everywhere, the political divisions that threaten the very fabric of our society.

What words can possibly be enough for the mother who sent her child to school in the morning, and by evening was providing DNA samples to identify the body? For children who touch palms to window glass as they bid farewell to their fathers and their country, maybe forever, because of geopolitical greed? For families just beginning to see light at the end of the pandemic, now wondering how they can buy gas and put food on the table? 

I don’t have those words. 

And since words are my palette, what am I to do with this persistent feeling that more words are decidedly not what the world needs right now? Already, we have too many. And too few of them are helpful. So I’ve been quiet, because I don’t want to contribute to the noise, to the already over-saturated airwaves and news feeds that don’t leave space for what I believe we do need now, more than ever.

Listening.

In a world that won’t stop talking (to quote the subtitle of Susan Cain’s excellent book, Quiet), it seems no one is listening. No one is seeking to understand. We’re only seeking to be heard.

As a writer and communicator, I see this as a reminder to use things besides my words – like an open heart, an active mind, and a curiosity of spirit. I must summon the will not just to hear and respond to the stories of those people whose personal tragedies play out in prime time and tug on my heartstrings, but also to listen to those who see the world in vastly different ways than I do. 

That is so much harder, isn’t it?

To be clear, I’m not talking about excusing those who commit atrocities. Rather, I mean listening to what’s behind the diatribes on social media or at demonstrations and rallies, seeking to understand those who come from a perspective that is far different from mine. 

For instance, I disagree vehemently with those who believe an 18-year-old (or anyone) has a fundamental right to own an automatic weapon, those who want to limit a woman’s right to decide what happens with her own body, those who would ban books or try to insulate us from the facts of our uncomfortable history, those who perpetuate a known lie in a brazen attempt to subvert our democracy.

Throwing words at all these issues isn’t helping. All sides (including my own) are dug in. We’re not hearing one another. Am I foolish to believe we have to try to do better? Maybe. I know we won’t ever move forward if we can’t forge some common ground.

If I listen behind and beyond the words yelled from those who disagree with me, one thing I think I hear is fear. Fear of being targeted by violence. Fear of the breakdown of society, the loss of history and tradition, the dismissing of worldviews. Fear of losing power or control. Fear of change. 

Maybe our very fears offer a meeting place. What if we voiced those, instead of our opinions? What if we listened – really listened – with open hearts and minds? What if we were all a little vulnerable, willing to learn something, seeking to “understand, rather than be understood?”

Is that even possible? Who knows? I just know where we are isn’t working. Communication isn’t happening when all we are doing is asserting our own viewpoints.

So, let listening begin with me. I hope some from different perspectives, sincerely seeking common ground, might meet me here.