This is officially the last blog of the first year of Komunikas – For What It’s Worth (cue balloons and fireworks, woohoo!). One year isn’t a lot in the scheme of things but, if we do the maths, one year is 52 blogs, something like 50,000+ words, and a healthy dose of self-discipline to post a blog about coming home every week. I wasn’t certain my ability to stick to a self-imposed schedule had survived the pandemic. I’ve been thrilled to discover I can still hold myself to account!
I’ve learned a lot in Year 1. I’ve learned to build a website that’s not too shabby. I’ve honed my ability to put words on a page. I’ve experimented – with style, with photos, with social media. Smoothed the edges of my thoughts and clarified my opinions. And I’ve taken more risks in the last year than I probably have in those fifty years before it began. Yep, I’m a wee bit proud of where we’ve travelled this past year, Komunikas and I.
I’ve allowed words to flow about so many topics – some planned and some a surprise even to me. Every one of them has resonated with at least one other person and achieved that powerful thing that only language can do. We speak and we write to communicate with someone else. We seek out understanding. We seek out connection.
When I heard Isabel Allende utter these words I was transfixed. I stopped the podcast. Rewound it. Replayed it. Rewound it again and listened closely. I wrote it down and stared at the words. There! That’s it! That’s the heart of it. It’s the answer to the age old question (in child psychology anyway) – does thought or language come first? (Answer. Thought. I think…). It explains how culture and cadence can be so individual, so powerful. So human.
I’ve been ridiculously distracted by words and sounds for what feels like a lifetime. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know how to read and write. I dreamed of learning a second language and soaked it up when I had the chance. Learning German explained English to me; being inducted into the secrets of another language was the entree into another culture. And then, slowly but surely, the metaworld of how humans communicate was revealed to me.
I went on exchange as a student where I spoke German (badly, slowly, proudly) the entire time. When I got home my sisters rolled about laughing. I had somehow picked up a Welsh accent! The speech patterns of a country I’d never visited had settled on my tongue just by listening to a teacher who had learned his English in Wales! I learned the science behind it (the Chameleon Effect) but I prefer the mysterious image of an accent floating through the air and finding a home with me. It still happens. I unconsciously imitate the speech of whoever I’m talking to. If I do this to you, please know I am truly not trying to make fun of how you talk. Imitation is a sincere form of flattery!
As a speech pathologist I learned the scientific explanation of how we make the sounds of speech. The intricate neuromuscular acrobatics our tongues and lips and teeth perform when we say even the simplest things. The psychological AND the sociological impetus behind our need to talk to one another. Symbols. Sounds. Thoughts and meaning. Reading and writing (hooray!). Honestly, could there be a more perfect profession for me to have chosen? And, when the time came last year to finally hang up my hat and come home there was no more perfect name for my writing business than one that means communication.
Coming Home in 2022-23 taught me about myself. One thing I know for sure is that there is an infinite amount of things still left for me to learn about communication. As a speech pathologist, as a parent, as a friend and as a writer I’ve come to realise there is no ‘one right way’ to communicate. Sometimes it works, often it fails, always it matters to keep on trying to find your authentic voice. As a listener, partner, interpreter and reader I know that it is so very easy to make assumptions about a person just by the timbre of their voice and the vocabulary they use. It is buried somewhere deep in me to believe those assumptions without question… and therein hides communication quicksand. Step carefully!
For what it’s worth I think I’m safely done with coming home. It took the whole year but now it’s time for focusing in a different direction. I initially planned to play with themes about looking ahead but the universe grinned at me and shook her head. Not yet, Melinda, not yet. Now I’m safely home it turns out it’s the perfect time to look back from my vantage point to see where it is I’ve been.
My journalling theme for 2020 was going to be Hindsight Is (see what I did there? Thought I was clever, didn’t I?!). As we know all too well now, 2020 did not turn out to be the year of clarity. Not for me, possibly not for anyone. Clarity, it seems, is best observed from a distance. In this case a few years distant; years during which the world was deconstructed and then reassembled with some unexpected new facades. I don’t know about you but I am extremely intrigued by all the subtle realities that are now clearly visible from 2023.
For What It’s Worth – Year 2 will take its cue from my favourite prose poem – the Desiderata. You’ll get to know it as we go along. You might even come to love it with me. If not, stay curious! Remember the most important thing about communication – it takes two people for it to work properly. Share your thoughts, opinions and reactions. Teach me a thing or two! Ask questions and tell me stories.
Because that’s what we human beings do. We share stories. I’m so glad you’re here at Komunikas. Share it with a friend and make sure you subscribe. It’s a birthday party – have a cupcake, charge your glasses and hug the person closest to you. Cheers!!!
Congratulations on a whole year of great posts! Every week, you’ve been inspiring.
Aw, thanks!❤️🙏🏻