if we should ever look about us and wonder, how did i get here?, more likely than not, there are distinct markers winding back in time. more than any other memories, i hold on most tightly to the words of friends, family, and teachers (past and present) who believed the possibilities, even when i was nowhere near achieving them. the naysayers, too, have their place. and yet, their words have not lingered as intensely; if i am to recall them, they come only as blurry waves of knots from misshaped mouths.
some of us believe that unless the word is harsh, biting, or daring, it cannot be true, cannot be real. why is this? of course there is a place for criticism, when undertaken constructively and with the intention of improving matters as they are. the challenge, however, is to pause--if only for a moment--to reconsider the underlying purpose of what we speak, because whatever the word, every now and then, it shapes the lives of those who listen.