A couple semesters ago in a class dedicated to studying the early inhabitants of the British Isles, we learned that the Celts considered words to be a sort of magic. Ogham stones, bearing the marks of their primitive language, were never even used for writing down stories because of the magical power they believed words possessed. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Yes, we might not be Goidelic Celtic pagans who believe in morally ambiguous mythical beings you can interact with in liminal spaces, but the magic is still there today.
But really, though.
Sometimes I think we may as well all be wizards and witches, because words—all the words we use every day—have power. We don’t even need a wand, and we can make the same things occur. You might not be able to levitate a person, but you can elevate their spirits. You might not be able to inflict physical damage with the flick of a wand, but even one word can cause emotional pain that’s even worse. But you can actually put a person to sleep with words. I’ve experienced it in class before, and that’s some real magic right there.
The study of English is the study of words, and the ideas and truths that are shaped when words are strung together—ideas and truths that have resonated with mankind since the Epic of Gilgamesh was carved in cuneiform on clay tablets. That’s why I love my English classes—because I love digging for truth. It lies at the core of every poem, every story worth reading that has ever been written. That’s what everyone writes about, what everyone writes for. To find the truth, to wrestle with truth, to share the truth as they see it. And the only medium they can use is words. That’s it. And it fascinates me.
Sometimes when I begin to answer a text message, my mind is boggled with the millions of ways I could respond—the near-infinite treasure trove of words at my fingertips. The same feeling often comes when I begin to write a research paper or respond to someone in conversation. There are so many words I could use, so many different ways to convey the same idea, the same truth. It’s kind of amazing. Words have so much power—for good or for evil.
And I don’t think people realize this.
It pains me to read comments, articles, blogs, and conversations on the internet that are filled with hate, written by people who, because of the anonymity of the internet, choose to use destructive words because they aren’t face to face with the people they aim to tear down. It honestly makes me kind of sick—you have the power to uplift and influence the lives of others positively, simply by the words you use. If you’re filling your respective corner of the internet or the corners of others with hurtful words, you’re choosing to misuse your gift of language. And it makes me sad to see it. You have so many words to choose from. Think about the power behind the ones you use before you spread evil instead of good. Do you really want to be that kind of person?
The more I read and study the powerful writing of the greats that have come before me (just read “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” out loud and tell me you don’t feel some magic), the more I desire to construct my words in a beautiful way—the more I long to share truth and uplift those around me. All I have are words, and as long as I’m living I’m going to use their power for good.
You have over a million words to choose from.
Please choose the good ones.
