Category: Communication

Something that often tends to bother me greatly is “tone”. Ultimately, I suppose it’s this sense of what words are coated with? All that surrounds them with extra weight or emotion. Doesn’t “all that” effectively change the meaning of our words themselves? Or, at least, place them within a broader context that can significantly impact what’s actually being said.

It’s something I’ve written about before (Note One), musing over this idea of words carrying only a small percentage of all that’s communicated between us. Body language, tone of voice and other social cues generally adding a great deal to the substance of our words. It’s fascinating, in many ways, because aren’t we all quite isolated within our own bodies, with only words to connect us?

Through language, don’t we reach out to establish common ground? This act of sharing our experiences, perspectives or feelings and, hopefully, having them received and acknowledge by others (Notes Two). Aren’t words the most efficient way of bridging our aloneness to feel connected, understood, accepted? Seeing ourselves within a greater sense of meaning and belonging.

That “words” might carry such a tiny portion of our meaning just seems so interesting. All this other “stuff” – how we’re holding ourselves; the sentiments expressed by our voice or delivery; the social gesture our statements are making; ways those around are responding, their concern or disinterest encouraging or making us feel more isolated from human companionship – potentially turning them into something quite different.

It seems like one of those areas where it’s tempting to think things are “easy”. That you can just string your words together and your intended meaning will happily follow them out and travel, unaltered, through the ears and into the mind of your recipient. But, in reality, it seems that journey is fraught with opportunity for your message to be misconstrued or get completely lost.

Which, thinking about it, is probably completely obvious. Much of life can be seen as filled with our failings or difficulties in communicating our true meaning to others – all the times things have been misunderstood or mistaken over the years. Don’t we generally hope to find common ground, yet struggle to get others to see life the same way?

Perhaps by “tone”, then, I’m meaning “all that’s not words”? All this other “human” stuff that wraps around them, their delivery and reception, adding whole new levels of significance. We might be completely unaware of all we’re sending along with our words, let alone what others might pick up on that makes “hearing” so difficult, but it’s still a reality whenever we communicate.

Given how it touches into all other areas of life, tone’s probably not an insignificant thing to be concerned about (Notes Three). That said, isn’t it often brushed aside as a particularly “female” preoccupation or over-sensitivity? Being attuned to life’s social or emotional nuance may not be valued as much as it could be (Notes Four), but more effective communication seems like something that could benefit us all.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: The power of understanding
Note 2: “People Skills”
Note 3: The difference humanity makes
Note 3: Information as a thing, endlessly growing
Note 3: Can others join you?
Note 3: What are we primed for?
Note 3: Effect, if everything’s a drama
Note 4: The beauty in home economics
Note 4: “Minding the Earth, Mending the World”
Note 4: “Women who run with the wolves”

Of all the things that exist in the world, how many can we say we already know and understand? And, how many of those ideas we have in mind could we claim to be completely true and flawless? It just seems the world’s so vast, so full of different ways of seeing and interpreting the realities we find around us – how could we ever say our knowledge of it is now complete?

These days, however, it seems we’re often told knowledge is easy: it’s at our fingertips, and even children will confidently proclaim they understand things far more complex than many adults truly have a firm grasp around. We’re wielding logic, facts and conclusions as if life’s simple with everyone in agreement on how we’ll interpret it all.

In reality, though, aren’t words still open to interpretation and their meanings subject to ever-shifting definition? Any form of communication perhaps always being a case of somehow managing to convey what we mean and establish agreement around every term we’ve used along the way (Notes One). When our worlds were more limited it may’ve been that meanings were commonly held, but it’s not seeming so true now.

Words, after all, are simply representative of our ideas – standing in the place of complex, integrated, ever-changing realities. Now that all our experiences of reality are being pooled into this one, virtual conversation, how are we to claim the words we’re using carry the same meaning at the point they’re received? Can we be sure of having communicated effectively if our intended meaning never reached the other’s mind?

What I’m trying to say is, communication’s far from easy. There are so many grey areas, projections and preconceived notions around what everything means. And now there’s so little time, so many people to talk to, and so much at stake it’s not looking to get any easier. Hasn’t communication generally been one of humanity’s bigger problems? Finding ways to share understanding and reach agreement having, perhaps, taken up most of our time.

Maybe there aren’t that many people who truly “are” skilled at communication? At conveying ideas, explaining perspectives, exploring differences, listening openly, letting others reach their own conclusions about where they now stand. Isn’t it essentially a question of how we’re approaching things? Things meaning people, experiences, ideas, beliefs and attitudes. Whether we’re tolerant of diverging viewpoints, or not. (Notes Two)

Often now, everything seems like a battle; people and their ideas, something to defeat or eliminate. What does it mean to make “conquering” part of how we relate? To judge, attack, belittle, sweep aside or downplay the thoughts and experiences others have in mind. What would it mean, instead, to approach people with attitudes of openness, curiosity and acceptance? Perhaps, even, to approach life and knowledge itself that way.

If much in life, despite what we might think (Notes Three), is truly unknown at this point, how we go about forging relationships with all we’ve not yet come to understand is perhaps crucially important.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Social starting points for modern ways
Note 1: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Tempting justifications of self
Note 2: Humans, judgement & shutting down
Note 2: Thoughts of idealism and intolerance
Note 3: Convergence and divergence
Note 3: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 3: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 3: Knowing who to trust
Note 3: Spirit as the invisible

How easy is it to let people change? To not hold them hostage to expectations, mistakes or patterns of behaviour but let them emerge into something new; perhaps something they’ve long been hoping for and working towards. Rather than insist things stay as they have been, could we wake up fresh each morning and let them be different?

So often it seems we seek evidence, looking to the past for the picture of who people “are”: things they’ve done, choices we’ve made, the values or character portrayed by accumulated decisions, actions or attitudes. As if all these things reveal the truth of who we are – the revelation of the nature of the being who rests within it all.

What else do we have to go on? There are people’s words, their presence or general demeanour, the way they relate, and the things they choose to do (consciously or otherwise). It’s pretty much all we’ve got to work with when it comes to understanding others: how they act in the world, and what that “says” about how well they understand it and the kinds of ideas they have in mind.

Doesn’t that risk making us prisoners of the past, unable to change or grow? Isn’t change – reflecting on things, deciding to go beyond previous limitations – what life’s about, in a way? Is letting people change simply letting them “be”: flawed and trying to improve or overcome whatever seems to be holding us back? Growing, learning and doing better might well be what life “is”.

Yet it can easily seem we’re not free to change; that the past paints a picture of which we can never be free. It sometimes seems we don’t quite have a framework that takes into account the fallibility of human nature, the deeps wounds and insecurities that can derail people’s lives. Why is it that, in seeking perfection, we can be so intolerant and unforgiving of anyone missing the mark? (Notes One)

Maybe it’s part of ego and individualism? This idea of a person being a brand with a consistent image and set of qualities – masks we’re apparently supposed to construct, lock in, and defend to the hilt (Notes Two). Holding people to things they might’ve once chosen, for whatever reason, seems a strange way to be human. Not to say “who we are” doesn’t matter, because it does; but why hold it so tightly?

What would it mean, then, to let people change? To withhold judgement and allow the space for change to happen. Because change must inevitably mean breaking old habits, disappointing expectations, and seeing things in new ways. That’s not easy; but it’s also incredible how change is even possible – that humans have the power to reflect on their lives and choose otherwise (Notes Three).

To shift our ideas about life, ourselves and others we surely need to think differently, act differently, and allow the pictures we have in mind to change. How’s that ever possible if we’re seeking to set everything in stone?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Thoughts of idealism and intolerance
Note 1: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 1: Ideals & the pursuit of them
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Masks we all wear
Note 2: Letting go of “who you are”
Note 2: Can we reinvigorate how we’re living?
Note 2: How things change
Note 3: Starting over in life
Note 3: Conversation as revelation
Note 3: All we want to do passes through community
Note 3: Humans, judgement & shutting down

How do we see the world? The ties between us, the meaning of things, the feelings and attitudes we’re extending toward one another and the very act of existence can be such a mystery at times. We’re here, with our thoughts and the ability to communicate them, yet how clear are we on the “what we’re doing and why” of life?

I suppose in our thoughts we relate ourselves to the world around us? Very quickly, we begin piecing together what things mean and how to interact with them – people, animals, nature, words, stories, environments. We’re looking at the world, testing the boundaries, and deciding how we’re going to live in relation to it all (Notes One). It’s the stuff of youth, of education and of culture.

Through our words and gestures, we’re surely conveying these fundamental ideas we have about life: the value of others, ways we might act, and what’s acceptable in terms of kindness. How we are in the world is, in a way, a picture of all we’ve learnt to believe about it. Our understanding is perhaps this frame through which we interpret and respond to things.

So, what is that meaning? What ideas do we have about how things should be and how we might best respond to help shape things in healthy and constructive ways? I mean, if our choices – our words, gestures and actions – impact the realities around us, then how we’re responding must forever be reshaping our social world, in particular. How are we using this power we all have? The power to affirm or negate.

It seems that, in looking at things, we have the choice to recognise or ignore whatever it might be. As if the whole of our world passes before us while we’re choosing which things we like, want, appreciate or understand. Each person, effectively, being this point of acceptance or rejection as we’re making our way through life.

Which is just interesting: that we change the world through our responses. And, clearly, we all have many ideas in mind as to “how things should be”. We’re pretty well-trained in the arts of judgement, criticism, labelling, diagnosis and advice – perpetually deconstructing and setting things straight within the confines of our own mind (Notes Two).

Do we, then, go through life evaluating other people? Choosing only to reflect that which we know enough to appreciate, affirm or accept (Notes Three). Like selective mirrors, only responding with recognition to that which we personally want to create. Of course, that would mean we’re limited by our own understanding: only reflecting what we already know.

It’s a train of thought that’s reminding me of Goethe’s ideas around meeting people, “when we treat him as if he already were what he potentially could be, we make him what he should be”. Written in quite different times, it’s still raising this question of social conditioning – how well are we understanding reality, potential, and what we can hope to achieve by way of our responses?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Complication of being human
Note 1: Knowledge, capacity & understanding
Note 1: Culture as what we relate to
Note 1: The struggle with being alive
Note 1: What you’re left with
Note 2: Pick a side, any side
Note 2: What are our moral judgements?
Note 2: Do we know what stands before us?
Note 3: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 3: Conversation as revelation
Note 3: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 3: Invisible ties
Note 3: Humans, judgement & shutting down

Somewhat related to all this is Doing the right thing, we erase consequences.

When we feel evaluated by the world around us, how do we respond? What’s it like to exist within a social space of observation, criticism and opinion rather than one of acceptance? At times, it seems we feel that because something’s there we have the right to pass constant judgement over it. As if our very existence and capacity makes us all these centres of evaluation.

We’re clearly taught to do this, to critically scrutinise our environment and everything in it. Thought can do that: take itself as the starting point and quite gleefully deconstruct the world around it to emerge the uncontested victor within our own minds (Notes One). The sparring, combative, increasingly brutal nature of the Western mindset is a pretty fascinating phenomenon, really.

And I suppose we might say it’s only natural, that humans have a capacity for thought so we’re bound to apply it within our communities. Social by nature, we’re then using the critical mind as a tool or a weapon within that world: judging by our own sense of what’s best, feeding back praise or shame where we feel it’s deserved, in an attempt to influence others (Notes Two).

What’s it like, though, to live within a social environment of critique and condemnation? We might be cognitive creatures, but we’re perhaps equally capable of compassion; we could withhold judgement and allow others the grace to be human. Aren’t we all weird and imperfect? Don’t we all make our mistakes out of an incomplete understanding of life, self and society?

Can the work of education truly be said to be ‘done’ by the time we leave childhood? And, if the process of living is to be, in part, an ongoing process of re-education, does that really need to be a school of shame and angry frustration? Of course, flawed understanding is ultimately dangerous for society and the planet as much as the individual, but what tools are best for resolving it? (Notes Three)

We ‘can’ judge, but should we? Does it actually help achieve our aims? What are those aims? When we judge, it seems we’re holding reality up against our mental picture of how things should be – this idealistic indignation at reality’s imperfections. But reality isn’t perfect, and it seems far from likely our ideas are all that perfect either.

Perhaps we’re all just frustrated that the world’s not as we were told, as we thought or expected, and others don’t see things quite as we do in all these irritating ways. Life’s surely the accumulation of countless actions? Everything we do could arguably be done better and we all have different areas of focus, different aspects of life we see the importance of and wish others would too.

If that’s the reality, are we really choosing to constantly hold all others to account based on our own thinking? Won’t we all then feel attacked, underappreciated, labelled, but never quite given the information, respect or space to change out of our own free will?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 1: Where do ideas of evolution leave us?
Note 1: Ways thought adds spin to life
Note 2: Absolute or relative value
Note 2: What are our moral judgements?
Note 2: All we want to do passes through community
Note 2: Attempts to influence
Note 2: Can others join you?
Note 3: Dealing with imperfection
Note 3: The power of understanding
Note 3: Conversation as revelation

Alongside all this there’s always the question of human worth, as explored in Do we know what stands before us?

We might believe it “helps” to be less than entirely truthful – that people can’t handle honesty or it’s better not to rock the boat and have to deal with the fall out – but is it really the best path? At times, it seems our social world’s in fact built on the calm seas of hidden realities: no-one quite daring to reveal the truth and allow its integration within a more complex, nuanced, trustworthy sense of where things stand.

It just seems there’s so many ways we’re not quite honest. All these ideas around the social value of agreeing, hiding differences, casting around all these little white lies that, perhaps, grease the wheels of comfortable togetherness. And, of course, we all have our patterns and opinions, so insisting on challenging and correcting one another all the time could well shut off communication altogether.

But what’s the right balance? Without truth, where do we stand? Presumably, on a foundation of uncertainty, doubt and distrust. If we’re less than honest and expect similar dishonesty from others, we surely all exist in an ambiguous middle ground? A place of second guessing, imagination, filling in gaps, and concealing true feelings.

Maybe that’s simply “being sociable”? Keeping things back. Not quite revealing ourselves or showing our hand. Not letting others see us as we truly are or what we really think or feel about things. This game of illusions, masks and pretence as we deflect the penetrating gaze of others or attempt to control their idea of us. It’s interesting really, the social dance.

What are we trying to achieve though? Is it this idea of life being a drama? Our words, actions and appearances influencing how things play out as we seek advantage, power, popularity, or whatever else. It’s seemingly the root of the word “personality” – the persona, or mask, we create and live through (Note One).

I suppose it comes down to our sense of what life’s about? Are we here to share our true nature, learn from one another, grow beyond ourselves and our limited understanding? If so, might we all have a sort of duty to offer our true perspective, even if we don’t yet see what it means or how it might be useful?

This sense of entrusting others with the finest truth we can muster, in as acceptable a form as we’re able. As in, not to be brutal or speak with the intent to wound, but share our thoughts on life in case others can learn something from them (Notes Two). A picture, perhaps, of each person holding their part of the truth and contributing their perspective within the larger context?

Who knows what the “right” way is, but technology’s surely now offering us fewer places to hide? Modern life, with its carefree communication and illusion of privacy, seems a powerful challenge toward greater honesty (Notes Three). Can we handle that? Regardless, within a world of increasing transparency, accountability and divergent viewpoints, maybe we can’t keep avoiding the truth.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Masks we all wear
Note 2: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 2: What we say & what we mean
Note 2: Making adjustments
Note 3: Value in visible impacts
Note 3: All that’s going on around us
Note 3: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 3: The power of understanding
Note 3: Who should we trust?

Obviously, we live in a world of etiquette – the things we say and don’t say, what we really mean, and the mysterious notion of reading between the lines. Even without factoring in technology or the wonderful diversity of multicultural societies, there’s always this sense of subtext and what’s being communicated through or around our words themselves.

Might it be fostering uncertainty, fear, anxiety? This fact of socially-minded people often not saying what they mean so much as delivering these veiled messages we’re all, somehow, supposed to know to interpret. It could just lead to a place of looking for hidden meaning, imagining potential scenarios, doubting the words themselves as much as our understanding of what might actually be intended.

It’s interesting how such a thing might’ve evolved. It seems to be taught as a social skill, an asset in relating to others: to be mildly, if not wildly, dishonest in order to spare others’ feelings or create some veneer of nicety. Of course, there are undeniably situations where truth might be unpalatable, but any sweeping avoidance of truth doesn’t quite seem such a helpful solution.

How will others know they’re off track if others don’t let them know? How are we supposed to improve relationships or situations if we’re not being given valid information as to the state of them? How are we to find firm ground on which to stand if almost everything we’re told is some form of a lie, designed to control, deflect or shape us in some way? (Notes One)

What is the value of communication if it’s not truthful? What’s the impact on others of truth being hidden or glossed over? What are we missing out on by walking this path? If reality “is what it is” but we’re not reflecting that with our words, what are we doing? Why are we here, on earth, for some reason sending all these contorted reflections of reality to one another? (Notes Two)

Of course, there is such a thing as social awareness: things to let pass unsaid for the sake of politeness; some delineation between private and public, with all the gradations of intimacy or trust between them; the personal and social selves we use to shape how we wish to be seen and the degree of honesty we’ll offer in any given setting. Nuance that, perhaps, amounts to social creativity.

All this, then, boils down to the sense of a social code. Which can presumably only work if we’re using the same one – if we’re in agreement over what it all means – otherwise there’s just a confusion of confidence, paranoia, false certainty or doubt. If we can’t be sure of using the same code, are we wise to rely on any code?

Things being left unsaid must leave so much open to interpretation. Perhaps creating anxiety or, at least, uncertainty over how things stand. Might finding the courage, skill and time to navigate more truthful conversation be worthwhile in terms of clarifying things between us all?

Notes and References:

Note 1: True words, spoken in jest
Note 1: Fear or coercion as motivators
Note 1: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 1: Living as an open wound
Note 2: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Conversation as revelation
Note 2: Ideas that tie things together
Note 2: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 2: The power of understanding

Where do we go to with thinking? How far do we go into the nature of thought, the content and origin of our own thinking, or the paths thought’s taken over the years and into modern life?

Often it seems we’re thinking with thought as it’s handed down to us – picking up the ideas immediate or more distant generations and thinkers have handed over (Notes One). That flow of evaluation, judgement and conclusion that leads people to present certain ideas or trains of thought as definitive, unquestionable, worthwhile accepting pretty much on face value and building our lives around.

Which is what it is. This ongoing “game” of passing things down the line, casting some aside while placing others on pedestals. That perpetual conversation of society, civilisation, humanity, as we hope we’re choosing wisely and creating something that’ll be valuable, sturdy, and stand the test of time. Thought, effectively, building its structures into our lives by way of politics, education, culture, and other public voices (Notes Two).

But it also seems many thoughts are so close to us that we don’t see them as such, instead taking them as facts or parts of our identity in some way. Those ways of thinking we don’t question, accepting them as a given when, really, they’re already a substantial body of thought packed full of assumptions, attitudes, premises and conclusions all nestled right in there.

It’s interesting, because thought’s such a powerful instrument (Notes Three). It’s capable of cutting through centuries of ideas and customs to draw penetrating or dismissive conclusions. It can cast aside countless personal experiences and, in their place, offer compelling or impressive statements others might embrace as true. In the West, it seems we can think what we like, much as that’s impacting the world around us.

How disciplined we are in the use of thought then seems fascinating to question. When you place the proliferation of facts, perspectives and opinions the internet’s offering on top of that freedom to think as we please it seems as much an impressive recipe for disaster as it is a chance at progress, awareness or resolution.

In all that, where do we draw the line? How far should we explore the nature of thought and cast its penetrative gaze? Do we stop at the foundations that society tells us are the ground under our feet, or should we also draw all that into question? How much time or effort will we dedicate to gaining a firm sense of exactly where we stand and why, before we’re confidently striding forth to make changes?

Can we find the intellectual certainty to question the very ground we’re standing on? If it can’t withstand questioning, are we even that secure? Or, if it’s not essential to fully understand thought’s foundations, how certain can we ever be in chains of reasoning? If life’s too distracting to consider the bigger picture, where does that leave us? Does it even matter? Given understanding informs our actions, surely it must.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Caught in these thoughts
Note 1: The sense of having a worldview
Note 2: What you’re left with
Note 2: Do we know what we’re doing?
Note 2: Who should we trust?
Note 3: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 3: The philosopher stance

With this writing, and with life in general, I’m often just trying to understand – to reach a point where ignorance, the lack of understanding, disperses and truth becomes clear. As if it were possible to dissolve all differences, all the confusion or misunderstanding, and get to a place where it all makes sense. A place where everything fits. Like a cosmic jigsaw puzzle of a picture we don’t yet know.

And I know that’s weird. Like some philosophical throwback or out-of-step seeker in a time where modernity’s wanting to sweep us along in its wake. It’s as if we’re no longer supposed to seek meaning, despite our highly cognitive nature. Personally, I struggle to imagine life without it.

Is there not meaning to society, to the relationships it establishes between us through economic or cultural realities? Is there not meaning to the individual, to those things that’ve shaped and made us who we are? Is there not meaning to the lives we lead, the choices we make, the impacts we’re having on the world and the people around us? Is all that not painting a picture we might seek to understand? (Notes One)

Modern life zips along at such a pace that the retort of simply not having time for such contemplation actually holds quite a lot of weight. It’s true. It’s far easier and more efficient to cut away those things we don’t understand or relate to, all those ways of being or thinking you’d rather not have around, that don’t fit with your idea of yourself or the life you want to lead. We can cull. We can curate and edit our lives to perfection.

Which is what it is. Human minds, and hearts, may have limited capacity. Perhaps we have to make choices in order to survive the onslaught of all that’s around us. In that light, it’s logical to choose what suits us and the life we hope to create. It’s focussing in on a small area, on our section of things, and working there. But then, do those sections join together? Are they compatible? Do they even fit at all? Does it matter?

I don’t know. It just seems to me that we’re all humans, carrying all this meaning within ourselves, encountering meaning in the world, and seeking meaning through the lives we lead (Notes Two). Everyone has those dreams of love, acceptance, belonging, recognition, understanding. Dreams of being held in the hearts and minds of others; respectfully valued for who they are and what they bring to the table.

Living in a way that’s inclusive of every single one of us is undeniably an incredible challenge, especially now the world’s so deeply interconnected in all these modern ways. How can we live this way while bearing in mind all the impacts we’re having? Is it even possible to remain consciously aware of all that it means without becoming quite paralysed in our actions?

But, what does it really mean to give up on understanding?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Relating to one another
Note 1: How we feel about society
Note 1: Meaning in culture
Note 2: Value and worth in our relationships
Note 2: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 2: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 2: The way to be

Finding meaning in what arises from the conversation between us and the world was also the thinking behind Working through mind & society.

It’s often easier to say things humorously. It’s a way of communicating that allows plausible deniability while testing the waters, so it’s potentially quite helpful in broaching difficult issues: letting you say things without actually saying them. As communication goes though, that’s clearly a little ambiguous. And where does it leave us in terms of the social atmosphere?

While not having investigated theories around humour’s social functions and inner workings, it seems to skirt close to the truth in order to be effective. Truthful observations can become more approachable, indirectly, in this way as it’s socially acceptable to laugh and bond with those around you in appreciating the unspoken intention of what’s being said.

That kind of subversion of words, context, meaning, and potentially provocative implications is an intriguing aspect of human community: that we would make fun of ourselves, laugh at the realities we’re finding ourselves within.

In terms of how we manage as a society when life is hard, generally humour and anger seem the responses we turn to (see Notes One). Of the two, humour’s clearly the more enjoyable, and possibly the approach more likely to unite us. Both, though, are emotional responses. Both create ripples within the social environment – something we then have to navigate more purposefully, perhaps.

After either moment’s passed, we presumably still need to be able to talk about things meaningfully? An over-reliance on humour could lead into perpetually silly conversations where everything’s deflected, nothings truly being said, and avenues for more direct engagement with our problems aren’t really emerging.

Leaving anger aside, humour seems to let us place things on the table and explore the emotion around that. Surely an important function? Of course, it doesn’t solve anything and likely doesn’t carry well when taken out of context; but as a way to check our understanding of life with others it’s seeming quite valuable.

I mean, if we were to use humour to reach out in this way; then were to use that initial feedback to develop more exploratory conversations around things we might not yet understand or appreciate, there’s real value there (Notes Two). From that first, tentative, light-hearted social reaction we could discern so much to then sensitively and thoughtfully unpack through conversation and self-reflection.

I’m aware of being both meta and idealistic here, but surely humour can serve as more than simply the escape of release? Handled as a starting point for something more, it could become a very effective springboard for addressing our plentiful struggles.

Because arguably we only know what we know; anything else is beyond that, laying out there in a space we’ve not yet encountered or explored (Notes Three). If we’re ever to expand our horizons then we need to be able to navigate that which we don’t know. Reaching out into those spaces, finding ways to understand and relate to the social significance of what’s there, might be slightly confounding.

Becoming more skilful communicators could be the most wonderful blessing, for us and others.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Anger as a voice
Note 1: We may as well laugh
Note 2: Apparent difficulty in finding a voice
Note 2: Tone in public dialogue
Note 2: Counselling, listening & social identity
Note 3: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 3: Seeing, knowing and loving