PlanetLightworker Newsletter February 1, 2003 Dear Lightworkers, Playing with words… A few days ago, I responded to an email from someone that I coach. The person asked me what was happening in my life, so I replied that I faced some personal and professional challenges. The person replied with a statement something to the effect of expressing sympathy for my being sad and tired. In my email I said nothing about being sad and tired. Well, the statement that I was sad and tired pushed a button, and I replied saying that I do not appreciate having my words interpreted and then having the interpretation taken as the truth by the interpreter. In other words, please don’t put words in my mouth. What followed was an exchange of edgy emails about intuition and illusion and so on. There is some damage to the relationship although I think it will transform into something different which is OK as nothing stays the same. Change is one of the great virtues as well as frustrations of life. What this incident brought up for me (besides another lesson in loving acceptance) is how I often “play” with words. I can only “speak” for the English language as it is the only one in which I am fluent, more or less. I suspect most other languages share this same characteristic, namely, there is often a big difference in what is said versus what is heard. Of all of the topics that I have touched on in my writing, this one phenomenon must be familiar to everyone, especially those of you who speak English, and I am not ruling out other languages; I simply do not know about them. So what is it that causes us to “hear” something other than what was said (or written for that matter)? As is usually the case with such questions, there are many answers. The one I wish to explore has a spiritual basis. If I were an entity of pure spirit (which I obviously am not since I still run around in a skin suit), I think that I would perfectly hear what was said to me. If someone says, “The soup is hot,” I would take that at face value and even perhaps accept that it could mean temperature hot, spicy hot, very popular, or something else. Then, if important to me or if curious, I could ask for clarification of what kind of hot is the soup? Much of the time I don’t do that. I select a “meaning” that is important to me to have the soup be. I close out the other possibilities in order to have the soup be a certain way. Where does my “meaning” originate? I believe it is rooted in my ego. I use the word “ego” to reflect a composite of the survival strategies and tactics I built over my life to protect my self-judgment that I am unworthy of unconditional love and acceptance. My ego is not me, not the spiritual me. It is a partnership of my mental and emotional bodies or selves. Sometimes, perhaps often, my ego wars with my spiritual self who tells me, “Be open, trust, trust,” while ego perches on my shoulder and says, “Don’t listen to that jerk, protect, protect!” Sometimes I think I am a walking monument to this ongoing battle. So what does protection have to do with playing with words? The connection has to do with ego’s desire to interpret events in its favor, and so, in such a way that my “unworthiness” is not discovered by others. The “hot soup” example does not reflect the importance to my ego of maintaining the illusion of my worthiness. Consider this question, “Do you love me?” Wow – now there is a loaded one! How many ways can the question be answered? Beyond a simple “yes” or “no,” there are more than I can know. Ego has a veritable smorgasbord of answers from which to choose. Which one shall it be? The answer will come from my ego’s interpretation of the question; an interpretation which will serve my ego, not the person asking the question. My ego will be best served to reply in such a way, that my secret unworthiness is protected. I will “play” with the words of the question until I convert them to a “meaning” (ego’s choice) that best protects me. “Of course (I love you)!” Consider the nuances in that answer. Coming full circle to the incident I had with the person I coach, I think that both of us yielded to ego in our responses. The net effect is a slight deterioration of our relationship and friendship, not the end of either, but nonetheless a change that neither of us wanted. So why don’t I take action, stop playing with words, and get back to a heart-to-heart connection? It is possible, just as it is possible anytime I find myself playing with words. In the Light, Ron McCray
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