I've been thinking about words lately.
I love words. I've had a passionate love affair with the spoken and written word since I was able to distinguish that sounds and images held meaning.
Anyone who knows me closely knows how much I love to talk. I am filled with ideas and images that come pouring out. Sometimes I can't even stop myself as the words flow.
My relationship with words has been symbiotic- as many words as I send out into the world, I take in. I listen and read constantly. I love the sounds of people's voices and am constantly capturing words, phrases and rhythms, allowing them to fill me up.
But after all these years, 45 to be exact, I've had to re-evaluate this relationship. Lesson after lesson, as of late, has shown me that words are meaningless with out action. I am embarrassed to think about how many powerless words I have allowed to flow out into the universe. They have fizzled in the air before they even left my lips. I have made promises and made declarations that have gone no where. My life has been littered with this kind of pollution.
Even the words I've put down on paper have suffered from being little more than litter as I have left them limp with no intention of giving them life, meaning or purpose. I've forgotten them on my computer or shoved them into a drawer or file, never to see the light of day.
Words are nothing without intent. Intention implies action. Words without action are simply well-intentioned bullshit. Well meaning but as empty as a politicians promise.
The lesson has been learned and now it will be applied.