I have an important message for you.
It’s just that sometimes I feel like it’s in another language, so it’s hard for me to tell it to you.
Sometimes I think it’s actually in your language and I’m somehow responsible for telling it to you, but I haven’t learned how to speak it yet. This makes me feel sad, like I shouldn’t have been given this message for you.
But sometimes it really is in my language. I know the message. It’s for you. But I don’t know if you speak my language.
I’m scared to try because I’ve seen you, and we’ve smiled and we’ve exchanged some words, many words even, in that other language, the one that carries the word sounds. So, I feel a little strange suddenly speaking in a new language, without any warning, and expecting you to understand. And if you don’t, you might think I’m strange and stop sharing the word-language too. And then you will never get your message.
But most of all, I’m scared you will understand.
I’m scared because if you do understand, then we won’t need the word-language anymore. The word-language is formed in my head and meets yours just outside of our bodies. Sometimes very far! It is so safe and I can see it with my eyes and make sure it looks right. Often it doesn’t and this makes me feel strange, but at least it’s out there and I’m safely in here.
My language isn’t there. It’s so deep inside of my being that it can’t remember what the outside looks like anymore. It knows all the messages and sometimes it grows so strong with that knowing that I get scared it’s going to burst out of my outside body, through all the word words and down deep inside of you. It takes everything in my power to keep it inside and sometimes my body can’t even use the word-language anymore.
When I feel like that, I try to be alone. Sometimes I have to run away if my body is near the other bodies so no one sees me.
But not because I want to! No, it’s just that if you speak that language, the one so deep, you will understand all of the things that I cannot control. It’s not like the word-language where I can cut and shape and color. It’s so pure that I can’t touch it. I’m scared for you to know all of those things. The True things. So I have to run away and make sure they don’t come out.
And when I’m alone, I forget about the body and the word-language. I don’t need them. So I can’t spend too much time alone, you see. Because I forget. I forget how to use the word-language, and I forget what I call my body and how it’s meant to move like you move.
But something happened. You said a word and it came out of you and I watched it, waiting for it to go into my head so I could make some word-thoughts. But it turned down and went straight through my heart and it filled up my whole body. It filled it up so much that my body had to open up everything it could. Even the little tiny holes on the inside corner of my eyes poured out ocean water from somewhere behind my heart.
Somehow that word had carried the message because my inside language heard it. And it wasn’t so much that it heard it, but that it was it.
So, I know now. You do speak my language, our language. You have the messages deep inside you that say the same things. And when you are alone without the other languages, then your alone is the same as my alone.
I know now. I can let the message come up and I can speak them with my mouth. Or I can put them into my hands and press them against your hands, send them out of my eyes into yours. I can dance them through my whole body.
Even if the word-words are coming out and they are just sounds making no meaning, the messages are carried with them. And when our bodies open up, then the messages pour in and pour out and mix together and we cannot control it and so we are free.
So speak to me in our language, and I won’t run away.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Apprentice Editor: Kathryn Muyskens / Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo: Author’s Own.