Posture

“What we speak always returns
With a spike of barbs
Or the sweet taste of berries in summer.”
~ Joy Harjo, Song 6. Let ‘Em Eat Grass

We’ve all learned, at one time or another–probably many, many times–how powerful our words are, but we don’t often sit with the power of our tongue and really give it our attention. How many days do we breathe in the knowledge of that power, slowly and evenly, that we might breathe it out gently, for the benefit of all?

If I may dare to speculate, I’d guess that most of us picked up this lesson through some less than desirable experiences, that we learned specifically the power of careless words. We might have, over the course of time, found ourselves on the receiving end of someone’s painful words and felt the bitter sting. A thorough tongue-lashing or simply an inadvertent disregard, it matters not.

We’ve likely been behind the bullhorn ourselves once or twice, only hearing the string of hurt, large or small, after we unleashed it. The power of the tongue is immense and intense, and all that stands between blessing and curse is the gate of our lips, the care we take before opening them. Barbs or berries, we decide.

If you’re like me, you’ve actually spent plenty of time pondering those hard lessons, lost in regret and ruminating over what could have been if I’d just zipped my lip or employed my brain for a few minor seconds more before allowing those lips to part. If you’re like me.

It’s OK.

We don’t grow through success, we grow through failure.

“It’s by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there is your treasure.”
~ Joseph Campbell

What I’m wondering though, is this: How often do we rest our awareness–not only on the humbling fact that we hold the power to decimate, to lay low, to cut down, to make small, to quietly or not so quietly do harm with our words–but also on the startling and life-giving certainty that we also hold the keys to divine blessing with our words? How often to we remember and hold close to us the sheer brilliance that we have in our words a much greater power as well? The power to lift a heart, to build a bridge, to soothe a low soul, to bring the very light of the cosmos into a life, simply by wielding our words with care and love? Barbs or berries, we decide.

“What do you bless with? Or where do you bless from? When you bless another, you first gather yourself; you reach below your surface mind and personality, down to the deeper source within you–namely, the soul. Blessing is from soul to soul. And the key to who you are is your soul.”

“This weave of blessings is a constant activity of what is now called ‘mindfulness,’ a recognition of the miracle of being here, on the constant shoreline of pure arrival.”

~ John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

John O’Donohue may just be the patron saint of modern blessing. He makes an art of care-filled words turned directly into summer berries, and he gives us permission to do the same. He invites us in, to make of our words the most deliberate sweetness. He teaches us to hold one another in the cradle of our hearts, and from that point of intersection, where me meets thee, to offer up the best I have for you; solidarity, compassion, strength, and every good thing; there in a few words, my soul to yours, an entirely unique form of divine transmission, one capable of changing those on both sides of the bullhorn.

The funniest thing happens when we make a practice of such formal blessing, words piled up in love. Would you believe it, our day to day begins to absorb a posture of blessing. We find ourselves blessing those around us silently, without thought, without even words. A quiet river of blessing keeps itself up under the din of the day and our vision is somehow filtered through that burbling brook. What a gift.

I don’t pretend that the act of carefully stacking the stones of our words in blessing will make us immune to wielding them like weapons, or allowing them to rush forth without the filters of foresight. But maybe, just maybe, with that underground river flowing and fed regularly by the springs of our souls, it might get harder. Our tongue might grow more tender, our lips more fond of shaping the flow into the sweetest summer berries.

As we sit in silence and solitude,
giving patient ear to the power we hold in our tongues,
slowly imparting agency to the power of our lips,
returning to our minds the consequence of their inaction,

May we remember that at our deepest points
we are made for union,
we are made to live
in a perpetual circle of blessing
and love.

“This is the secret heart to the whole adventure of blessing. It is not the invention of what is not there, nor the glazed-eye belief that the innocent energy of goodwill can alter what is destructive. Blessing is a more robust and grounding presence; it issues from the confident depth of the hidden self, and its vision and force can transform what is deadlocked, numbed, and inevitable. When you bless someone, you literally call the force of their infinite self into action.
~ John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

Time to love louder, folks.