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Words — have you ever thought of their meanings, their etymologies, where they’ve come from, why they exist? Words collected together create this sentence, this paragraph, this comprehension. A form of art — seen by others, refined over time, reaching beyond the words themselves.
Each reader brings their own filtration system to the page, so even when the words are the same, what gets formed in the mind could be different. Like a sixth sense in your eyes or ears that grasps at something so much subtle and deeper. That, unless you really think about it and pay attention, you would miss what someone was really attempting to convey.
Miscommunication is often the only reason we stop to question the words at all — what was said, what was meant, what was missed. This is why I value words, what they mean, and what lies beneath them. Words convey beliefs and emotions, and even if those beliefs and emotions are something the speaker is unaware of, a true empath will get what I mean — when a friend says “I am fine” and you can hear the hurt underneath it.
Context is everything. And even in that statement “I am fine,” there is a level of mediocrity in that short strain of words. What is the meaning below it? What is really being said? What can be interpreted?
I hear words being thrown around — like compassion, or even forgiveness. These are powerful words, with a great deal of meaning behind them, yet I have heard them many times and known, through the way someone says them, that they have not forgiven, and that compassion is needed in that moment. This is not a form of judgment but simply an observation. When working with people who eventually do learn to feel forgiveness or compassion, the same words come out completely different. The shift is unmistakable.
There are certain small words in English that carry more than their definition. Let me walk you through a few. They are small yet do a lot.
Always and never — how can always and never be true? Always means all the time, on EVERY occasion. Yet have you ever told a partner, a friend, or someone — while complaining — that “they always show up late”? Maybe this is the majority of the time. However, couldn’t there be a moment where this person showed up on time, even if it was once? Especially in relationships, we don’t realize how much weight these words carry when we say “you always ___ (fill in the blank)” or “you never ___ (fill in the blank).” Never is the same — that someone never shows up on time, or never does something.
One may not realize how the words never and always can affect the psyche. There is more being conveyed, especially in the way it is being said. I have become sensitive to these phrases — when used regarding a relationship, a person, or a partner, I can almost guarantee there is a type of resentment I can hear in them. An immediate anger, annoyance, or feeling of disregard the speaker may be feeling from that person.
Let’s move on to the word but — it’s a hard one to avoid, BUT yes, I wrote it. What does the word “but” really mean? Its definition may not fully convey what it does when you use it in a sentence. By definition, “but” means: used to introduce a phrase or clause contrasting with what has already been mentioned. What I’m referring to is the message being conveyed beneath the surface. There is so much more.
“But” negates whatever came before it. It conveys a lack of importance in the prior statement. These are things they don’t teach us in school, yet as a hypnotherapist trained in Neuro-Linguistic Programming, I know that words carry so much weight. So if someone says to you, “you are doing a great job, but…” — fill in the blank. Can you see what I mean?
Another phrase in our language is “you should” — a phrase that indicates obligation, an expectation. It tells someone what is right or wrong. Yet how appropriate is it to tell an adult — someone with free will, living their own life — what is right or wrong? There is a saying in therapy: “don’t should on me and I won’t should on you.” And there is a reason for that.
Have you ever been told what you should or should not do? What does that feel like? Doesn’t it feel like a form of lecturing, of directed force? An alternative is could. You should — but really, you could — avoid using the word “should.” Now it becomes more of a suggestion rather than a direct force, because no one wants to feel forced to do something. Every human wants to feel a sense of free will, or have a choice.
And unfortunately, when we are children there is a great deal of shoulding that creates a constant negative dialogue in our head about all the things we should be doing. I can guarantee that does not feel good. In the art of persuasion, giving someone a choice can be a subtle suggestion toward the choice you would prefer — simply by giving them the option, you avoid the subconscious rebellion that comes from being told. Everyone deserves a choice.
The word try — it means to make an effort or attempt. However, there is a subtle insinuation that someone will fail. If I were to say to you, “go ahead and try to pick up your phone,” you may look at me bizarrely and just pick up your phone, because it is so obvious that you are able to pick it up — why not just pick it up then? As the great Yoda would say, “do or do not, there is no try.” “Try your best” insinuates a lack of confidence, a subtle doubt in one’s ability to fully do something.
I do have to be thorough though and say it is a very difficult word to fully avoid, as it is so engrained in our culture, I to will use it quite often. “I tried my best,” someone may say — and that is okay. I am not faulting anyone; I am simply pointing out the underlying messages that one may not hear, because it is a skill to do so. Language is an art. Words are an art. And so is communication. So maybe next time, instead of “try your best, it is all that matters,” you could say “do your best, it is all that matters.” It is subtle. Yet when it is repeated, it can be powerful especially for a kid.
There is nothing wrong with these words or combinations of them — however, the awareness of words and their deeper meaning beyond the definition is a pattern you can begin to pick up on. I hear what people say for a living and can feel the emotions carried within certain sentences. Words are art and expression — a way of conveying a message.
What if you were conveying a message you never meant to send? What if the words you were using were defeating the very point of what you wanted to say? Because it doesn’t matter what I mean — what matters is what I communicate, how I communicate it, since it is for you, for the person reading this. And even though there is a level of personal expression for me or for anyone, language is a form of connection — a meeting ground, a middle point — to create a connection with someone, to have them read these words and feel something and get the message. It’s the reason you can talk to one person and feel a certain way every time, you may not fully be able to fully label it. Because words simply vibrate.
Words can make you feel held, loved, and cared for, or they can make you feel small and rejected. The frequency of the speaker travels through the words they choose — and most of the time, neither person realizes what is being transmitted, especially when we are a kid.
u have kids.” Not if — when. It’s another one of those words. When insinuates inevitability. It tells the listener that something will, or must, happen. And little girls hear this constantly. Aunties, grandmothers, strangers, well-meaning people will say — “when you have kids, you’ll understand,” “when you have kids, you’ll see.” I absorbed that word for decades without ever questioning it.
Now, at 41, I have made a conscious choice not to have children. Not because there is anything wrong with having them — for many people, that is their why, their reason, a wonderful endeavor, and I honor anyone who has that desire. But for a long time I thought I wanted kids. Only later, mainly during Covid, did I realize I had never actually examined that desire. I wanted them because I had been told, over and over, that I would have them one day. The word when had done its work quietly, for years, before I ever had the awareness to question it.
I had a kind of reverence for the act of giving birth — I truly saw it as a beautiful expression of what the women form can do. I wept while rotating in obstetrics (during medical school) when a stranger gave birth, and was present for all of my 4 nephews & niece’s birth which was magical. Yet I never actually wanted a toddler, an adolescent, or a teen. I had not put great thought into the real reason behind my why until then.
I have uncovered that for me, my work, my expression, my unfoldment — became my baby, and it filled what I really wanted. I only got there by learning to hear what had been said to me, and by learning to choose my own language going forward.
That is what I mean when I say words are an art. They shape us before we know we are being shaped. And once you start to feel the weight of words — what the body is saying when it hears always, never, but, should, try, when — it cannot be un-felt. From there, every conversation becomes a chance to communicate with intention. To mean what you say, and to say it in a way that lands for you, and for someone else.
So this is an invitation, not a lecture. Listen to yourself this week. Notice the words you reach for. Notice the words others use on you, and what your body does when they say them. You don’t have to change anything yet. Awareness comes first.
That is the art.