The Limits of Our Language

The limits of my language are the limits of my world. - Ludwig Wittgenstein

I.

When I joined The Grand four years ago, I was blessed to have its co-founder, Anita Hossain, serve as my coach. In one of our conversations, Anita asked me to consider the effect of my self-deprecating language on myself and those around me.

Our conversation illuminated what was previously imperceptible to me. Since then, I have practiced becoming more in-tune with the words I use to communicate internally and externally.

One profound revelation has been my use of extreme language. I used words like “never,” “always,” “everything,” “nothing,” and “only” frequently in conversations with myself and others. And, I was doing so mindlessly, like a habit, without regard for circumstance.

Here, I share a few more observations about extreme language. My intention is to extend to you the same invitation that was offered to me four years ago: to notice your words, so you may communicate more compassionately and truthfully with yourself and others.

II.

Extreme language arrests us. Because it lives at the edge, it is inflexible, brittle, and limits us in the following ways:

It blinds us to detail. Dismisses nuance. And, disregards changing circumstances. Put another way, in light of continuously evolving circumstances, extreme language becomes instantly outdated.

It limits our view. Extreme language shrinks our world. It is a retreat to the comfort of what we “know,” shutting us off from learning, developing, and understanding.

It orients us in fear. Extreme language seems to reveal an existential fear - that our lived experience, effort, or accumulated knowledge may be less meaningful or meaningless. By extension, if fear is the root of anger, then perhaps it is unsurprising that extreme language is usually expressed angrily.

It is robotic. Extreme language reflects a conditioned way of thinking. It’s attractive because it is simplistic and predictable. Our decisions are pre-baked, and conclusions pre-determined. We eliminate the effort to reconsider and recreate.

It is high-risk. The more we use extreme language, the more we continue to use it. Like building a habit, with time, it becomes our default operating language. Distorting our perception as we see things as purely binary, right or wrong, true or false, etc. And, perhaps the larger risk, is our use of extreme language when circumstances ask for a different approach (ie. sensitive or complex situations, relationships, etc.).

III.

Alternatively, we can choose language that adapts to a particular individual or moment.

Imagine how this approach may enrich your relationships, improve your decisions, and offer you and those around you more compassion, truth, and even, peace?

Humbly, I offer some daily practices that have helped me move in that direction:

• Notice the words I speak to myself; and

• Notice the words spoken by those around me.

  —

• Asking myself, “How could I be wrong here?” and

• Admitting, “I do not know.”

  —

• Recognizing my experience is < 1% of the human experience, and informs 100% of my view; and

• Acknowledging I lack full knowledge.

  —

• Asking myself, “What could they have experienced to hold such a strong opinion?” and

• Understanding that in their circumstances, I would very likely behave like “them.”

  —

• Shifting my physical posture to check my impulse to react; and

• Being silently curious.

IV.

Perhaps, extreme language has a time and place: extreme circumstances.

Otherwise, in our complex daily lives, we may be better served by adopting a more flexible approach. To practice stepping back, so we may see the full range of possible ways to communicate between the extremes.

To communicate in service of the individuals and circumstances we encounter with compassion and truth.