If you’re wondering why this post isn’t written by Stephanie… Well… That is because it’s not! The woman behind the words this time is Hannah Best. My home base is the art blog, Hannah Bee, where I post my original artwork. However, at the bequest of Stephanie, I find myself somewhat out of my element as I create a written blog post, in the spirit of trans-internet collaboration.
As I pondered the myriad topics to bore you with… I mean enlighten you with, I wasted no time and went straight to my iPod. Throwing on the Latin music playlist that accompanies me on all cerebral adventures, I allowed my mind to wander. Being the silly thing that it is, my brain seemed much more occupied with trying to figure out the words to El Wanabi by Fiel a la Vega than coming up with an intelligent, yet witty, blog topic. As usual, it wasn’t long before I was dancing the merengue back and forth across my room, singing along to a song that I barely knew the meaning to in English. Somewhere between the point in the song where I always stop caring if I know the lyrics or not and the second chorus, a transformation took place. My room was no longer four blue walls, but instead contained the cobblestone streets of a town somewhere in Latin America. The band was inside a café where laughter flowed out into the dark blue velvet night, as moonlight softened ever edge of reality. I wasn’t dancing by myself in shorts and an old tank top, but found myself bedecked in a flowing red dress, a flower in my hair and a dance partner at my side with skin the color of coffee mixed with a splash of milk. We sing along to the chorus. The café goers toast to us. Nobody bothers looking up at the stars, because everyone’s eyes shine with the light of life. Slowly, the music fades.
As the lights and sounds of my café drifted away, I had realized two things. One - that what I lack in upper body strength, I make up a hundred times over in the strength of my imagination. Two – even though I could only translate maybe 35% of the lyrics…it didn’t really matter. I still understood the meaning of the song. I could feel the passion and hope of the song, the excitement of the musicians as they played with their hearts and sang with their souls. My lack of proficiency in the Spanish language was beautifully irrelevant. I realized how powerful communication can be.
The dictionary has many meanings for communication, but my favorite definition is this: “a process by which information is exchanged between individuals through a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior.” There is so much to admire in the phrase, “a common system of symbols, signs, or behavior”. I was, and am, completely stunned by the beauty of the idea that humans, a species so unique within its own world, a species often separated into groups and categories, will remain united by the sharing of our thoughts, ideas, hopes, fears. I am and always will be much more interested in the way humans overcome these types of communication barrier. A smile, a bow, tears, folded hands, music, actions, passion, volume, inflection, a painting…these are our common system: our vehicle onto which we pack all that we wish to say before we send it off to the world, knowing quite without doubt that the message has reached someone else. This is understanding, and it is a beautiful phenomenon.
This is knowledge I wish everyone could realize. Sure, some of you are proudly nodding your head in contentment at the above statements, thinking, “Well, it sounds like a Hallmark card, but she’s got a point.” Please, don’t be that person. Take this idea and try to see how being open to that common system of communication can make your life so much the richer.
Go to the opera. Listen to the Spanish radio station. Heck - learn French, or Mandarin, or Arabic. Talk less, and use your actions to express yourself. Don’t you dare dismiss a piece of art. Slow down, stretch out your arms, and ask yourself of everything, “What does this say to me, as a human, as a fellow traveler of life?” Is this cheesy? Sure. However, sometimes amazing things happen when you step a little outside of your comfort zone in an attempt to understand something. It might be a tiny voice, or an unspeakable feeling, but you may just…well, find yourself dancing along to Puerto Rican pop songs, or getting inspired by short film from China.
Don’t stop at the first feeling, the first voice. Keep seeking those little sensations that itch at your logic. You’d be surprised how much you can understand if you try.
Communication is a scary thing. We fear being misunderstood. But why should we when we have our common system. It is a system of dreams, fears, design, anger, empathy, sympathy, happiness, grief, loneliness, thoughts, and ideas.
It is a system of love. It is a system of hope. It is a system of humanity.
And with this statement, I bid you adieu fair readers. Go forth, and attempt to make the world a little bit of a better place.
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