Our words are only a modest garment we wrap our emotions in, to be *seen*. Sometimes grief is dressed as a joke, sometimes loss is garbed as a rebuke, sometimes joy walks out wearing indifference.
Have you ever wondered about the dynamics of words and emotions, when we communicate?
What worth would you assign to being heard, against learning how to employ the best words?
How many of your words carry the soul of your emotions? How much of that soul is conveyed, over the sound of the word, to the listener? How much of that soul, them listeners are capable to receive? Is that in alignment with your expectation?
The raging emotions, the echoing stillness of a spiritual void, can both be dressed in the same garments ... how well equipped are you to identify each?
Do you think communication is a matter of sharing a language? Or, is connection actually only the identification of similar spiritual frequencies? Is it a matter of sharing the same wavelength of sight and blindness?
Hey, can you see this colour?
Have you ever wondered how people may remain hamsafar without ever experiencing hamnawaee?
Are words tools to construct your bridge of connection?
Do you know the pain of building bridges only to learn that the other end is a marshland, where no journey could be made?
What garment do you choose to dress that pain?