On the Inadequacies of Language to Emotion, and the Complexities of Emotion

Love and anger are two passions in the same thread of emotion. They exist in the same world, as siblings or bickering lovers. Opposites attract and all that. Love and anger are more related than love and lust, despite the fact that love and lust get confused so much. Lust is a want, a desire. It can be manifestly expressed, physically and verbally. "I want you" can be embellished in so many ways but still boils down to the same basic meaning. Love and anger extend to the point of speechlessness; "more than words can describe" is a cliche for a reason. Language is not complex or clear enough to accurately describe what needs describing. It reminds me of Derrida's statement that language is unstable; words only meanings are the images that we prescribe to them. The word 'tree' means nothing without the image of a tree, but the tree doesn't cease to exist if the word disappears. In the case of love and anger, we have no concrete image with which to associate with the words. Emotions are such an abstract notion; each person feels them differently, at different levels and capacities. 

We can't expect to find one word to describe such complexities, but what if we could? I had a conversation about this the other with a wonderful group of young men. We discussed so much, but one thing that I was intrigued by was an idea that one day we may share a worldwide language. If that happens, what language do we choose? A language like French has the capacity to describe emotion much better than English, which, despite all of its complexities, is a simply descriptive language that focuses on comparative details that can't always necessarily express what needs to be expressed. Will a language evolve to the communicative needs of the user? Or are some things beyond what language has the capability to express? I think that part of why emotion is so powerful is because it is beyond language. It is variable in people, and complex in a way that can't always be described. It is so meaningful that even something as strong as language can't fully express it. As soon as language is stronger than the emotions is describes, the emotion is no longer that meaningful enigma it once was. It is not so powerful as to be beyond expression, undervaluing emotion because it can now be so easily said.

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room...

Explanation: Something that every writer should do is keep a journal... sometimes I feel like my best writing is when I just write about anything that comes to mind. Some of this may not make sense, some of it may be dark, but just go with it. I'll try to keep posting these along with other, more planned entries to mix things up. But here ya go :)

9/30/2011   2:19am

Slow dancing in a burning room. John Mayer really has something there, because it seems to be that same feeling I find myself returning to. The feeling that I’m counting down to something, surrounding by something that’s happening but I have no control, just waiting for it to consume me so I can know it. “We’re going down and you know that we’re doomed”  Not the happiest sentiment, but I relate to it more than I care for.

I wish I could put down in words the way blues guitar resonates, how it pierces to my inner core without me realizing. It sneaks up on me, and fills me with an unexplained beautiful melancholy that spurs nostalgia and analysis in reminiscence. Sometimes it makes me smile; happy mistakes and circumstance dance in my mind and I look back on times when the smile on my face seemed to catch from one day to the other. Other times I’m somber; the friends I’ve lost and bridges that have caught fire despite the best efforts to prevent the worst. I regret nothing, I know this for sure. Everything that has happened in my life is now a part of the person I am. Each bad decision led to better ones down the road, ones I may not have made without that previous knowledge.

Why is it that a song can stir feelings in me that I shouldn’t feel, or have no outlet for? A romantic song makes me feel romantic when I’m alone in my room; an angry song stirs my senses on a day that has been filled with friends and laughter. It’s worse when I sing along. It’s as if I experience the artist’s feelings and inspirations by expressing it myself. I suppose that’s every artist’s goal though, and in that sense maybe I have no control over it. But what if I did? What if I could control those feelings? If I could sing those songs without any attachment? I suppose then they wouldn’t sound the same though. I’ve been told that part of the best part of watching me perform is how much I connect with what I’m performing, how into it I get.

 I feel like I’m missing something, and that music is the key to finding it. Like maybe if I listen to the song enough, I’ll find the secret that will a hole that I‘m not sure is there. Do other people feel like this? Like they’re supposed to be doing more or different? Maybe I just need to sing more. It goes away when I sing, and when I dance. Music, and the expression of it, seems to be the key.

2:37am

Thinking

I don't think that people think about the impact they have on other people's lives. Every action towards another person could have a huge or a tiny impact but we never really think about what those could be. The other day, I had a customer come in ordering drinks for her son's 8th birthday, her son who was with her. She ordered 5 drinks, 4 went in a carrier, and the little boy got to carry his own drink; it was just how the numbers worked out. Before I gave him his drink, I took my sharpie and wrote "Happy Birthday" along with some balloons on his cup. The look on his face as he read the side of his smoothie stayed with me through the entire day, and I can't help but think that 20 years from now, he's going to look back to his 8th birthday and remember the lady who wrote on the side of his smoothie cup in happiness. We always remember those little things, the random little actions that happen throughout the day but I don't think we realize that other people have them to, and that other people could have them about us (good or bad). A seemingly insignificant phrase could mean nothing to one person, but said to another could bring back unbearable memories.
I watched some snippets of a documentary on 'real-life' super heroes today on TV. Not like firemen or police officers. Legitimate people in masks, capes and spandex. These people do what they think are extraordinary acts of kindness when in reality, these are things that everyone should do, as decent human beings. Being a good person isn't super, it doesn't take that much effort, and doesn't require a mask! You should be proud to do things like volunteer to help the homeless, not let a business owner harass a customer, not let someone get mugged. It is not too much to ask people to be good human beings, but these superheroes make it seem like you have to hide who you are and make a huge deal out of it. It is sad that we live in a world where being a decent human being makes you extraordinary or 'something special'. Humanity should be a normal thing. Instead, it should be cruelty or evilness that makes someone stand out, because it is so off kilter from the rest of the world. You never know what affect a smile, a greeting, or a help across a parking lot can have. Think about it next time you say "I want..." instead "Can I please have..."
Think about it the next time you see someone straining to reach for something but rush by because you don't want to deal with it.
Think about it all the time, everyday, with every action you make. Think about the impact you could be having on someone else's life. Let your smiles reach your eyes. Make eye contact and say Hi. Let someone be nice to you, especially if it's their job. You're just making their life harder by being a pain in the ass. Be nice to someone, even if they're being a pain in the ass. You're just sinking to their level by reacting in the same way. If nothing else, be a good person for you, not for other people. It will make you more successful and make you a healthier and happier person. I do both. When the people around me are happy, I tend to be happier. When I am good and full of goodwill and good thoughts, I feel good. My stomach isn't upset, my head doesn't hurt, and I smile. Alot. Smiling makes everything better. I truly believe that simple eye contact and smiles are the key to two people connecting in an amazing way. It isn't facts about each other, it isn't physical chemistry. It is an intent to do good and to be interested and listen. It is as simple as thinking about the potential impact you may have on someone else's life, and thinking about the fact that if you don't do things in a way that make you a good person to you, you may regret it for the rest of your life.
Think about other people's feelings. It will make you more conscious of your own.