This is a new venture. Even though it’s built on the old, it’s new. As every day is new, and every breath. Consider this: All the living diversity in the known universe rises from arrangements of the same few atoms. All the stories and songs in the English language, the novels and poems and knock-knock jokes are built using the same small–surprisingly small–puddle of words.
Is it using the same words over that makes us so often stale, stuck, thinking the same thoughts and seeing things from the same angle? Using that same old language we began learning before we could think, how do we identify and express those daily fragments of curiosity, surprise, disgust, hunger, awe that keep us from curling into language-less balls, that make life worth the trouble of speech?
Damned if I know.
But this is a call of sorts, a request and an explanation. I want us all to try–not to make language new, I don’t believe what’s new can be understandable–to notice. Along with the world around us, to notice our own response, notice the words we use when we try to tell or explain. Give, pay, exercise attention.