I know in what I say
I know in what is written.
I don’t know in what which way
how it has been taken.
V.G. Kreuder

Once, when running a group therapy session at our halfway house, I found myself frustrated trying to make a point. I looked to my left at three men seated next to each other and said, “You’re a drunk; you’re a drunk and you’re a drunk.”

The first one looked at me confused as if to say, “And? Why do you think I’m here?” The second man started laughing out loud and said “That’s a good one.” The third man got out of his chair to hit me.

I said the same thing, at the same time, in the same tone of voice to three people in three seconds. One was confused, one was amused and one was downright mad. My point was made.

How could I have done all three things, confused one, amused another and angered a third? The answer was, of course, that I didn’t. Oh, I am certainly responsible for what I said. However, each man was responsible for what he heard, and all three heard something different. And that was the point.

All I did was move air. That’s what sound is, moving air. Nothing more. It goes across the room, hits someone’s ears, and enters their brain. It’s there that it takes on meaning; the meaning the person gives it.

Talking is moving air with no power of its own, save for the power we give it. And oh what power we can give it.

Words have caused fights; ended marriages; split families, gotten people killed. They’ve started wars. Moving air. Remarkable stuff.

For children it’s never a fair fight. They get their self image from the words and actions of their parents. When those words are encouraging, loving, give appropriate limits and consequences, the child grows strong and self assured. When the words are abusive, derogatory and hurtful the child grows up in shame; sometimes in anger and always injured.

It’s also not a fair fight for a battered spouse. When words spoken in a relationship are loving, sharing, understanding and willing to compromise, the relationship grows strong. When the words are belittling, hateful, denigrating and critical, the recipient becomes ashamed; feels powerless; feels afraid.

For both, if they’re fortunate to find a good counselor, therapy teaches how to take away the power of the words, the power of the moving air.

A few years back I got into a pretty good disagreement with a colleague in a related field. He wanted to stop the conversation saying, “I don’t want to offend you.” I gave him an answer I learned it from a wise man many years ago.

“You cannot give offense. I can only take offense.”

After all, if I refuse delivery it doesn’t much matter how hard you try to insult me, does it? I have within me the personal authority to make your words mean as much, or as little as I choose.

Example: I am blessed with a Management staff that are very direct with their opinions. They’re professional; they mince no words (a good technique with a pig-headed Italian) and sometimes we argue. I could, if I choose, hear their words and tone as insubordinate. Instead, I choose to hear them as deeply committed, caring and talented. They are, to my ears, remarkable.

Not every argument is a referendum on the relationship, – any relationship.

Awhile back I was on the School Board. There I learned that not everyone who called me a horse’s rear end was wrong, and not everyone who said “Atta boy, Ed” was right. I’m grateful for the time I spent on the Board, if only because it taught me something about listening (and whoever sent me the half of the horse costume can have it back now.)

Words are just moving air. Even up close there wouldn’t be enough power to blow out a match. Still, the meanings we give them can imprison us. There are many ways to hear words and give them their meaning, and just as many ways to respond.

We can become responsible for what and how we choose to hear and thus respond. And that, ultimately, is what sets us free.