I love words.
Always have. Always will.

I hate words.
Always have. Always will.

I love how they can cover us like a blanket on a cold day.
I despise how they can chill us from head to toe like an icy wind.
I love how they can be arranged into works of art.
I despise how they can be manipulated into shards of glass.

The way they taste after I let my wounds pull them out of my guts in defence.
The way they smell after you pull the pin and the explosion of them detonates in front of me.
The sharp ends of them cutting my throat as I speak.
The shrapnel gouging my chest as I read.

I have spent years pouring over the words plastered on the walls of our lives
The paragraphs scrawled in hurried anger.
The smudges of tears all mixed in.
The way they twisted around each other like a python suffocating the words that came before.

The way they sour as they drop off the page when it feels as if there is nothing left one could say.
No bridge they could build or soil they could find to plant something new.

If I could use my words to plant a tree for you to find protection under
I would plant them with care.
If I could use my words to pass you a cup of grace,
I would pour them out just for you.
If I could use my words to create a bridge from me to you
I would build them strong and safe.

The taste of our words are as sweet as honey
The taste of our words are as bitter as blood.

I pray for words like honey.
I pray for words that bridge.
And I pray that when we taste the bitter words and they become like sharp glass,

I pray we find that glass of grace and we partake of the words that heal.

con·ver·sa·tion | ˌkänvərˈsāSHən |

noun

a talk, especially an informal one, between two or more people, in which news and ideas are exchanged: she picked up the phone and held a conversation in French | [mass noun] : the two men were deep in conversation.

Conversation is happening all around and within us.

What does that look like?

The exchange of news and ideas?

Social Media has given us the licence to sound off. To believe we are carrying a conversation when in truth, it is a sounding board of one.

How often are we genuinely crafting our words to create a dialogue that moves past the 'me vs. you?'

5 Simple ways we can create a safe space in a conversation:

1. Drop and remove any name-calling from referencing a person or group of persons. e.g. clowns, idiots, etc.

When we rely on a caricature of an individual or group, we strip 'others' of their humanity and their identity as living and breathing individuals on this earth.

2. Know your values and realize that others' values will never perfectly align with yours.

When we truly honour our values, it's much easier to relax into the idea that someone else may be different. We stop being so concerned with the differences, become more content with our choices, and get curious about what makes others who they are.

3. Get curious.

When divisive statements/topics arise, realize there is often so much more than the statement beneath what is said. Upbringing, age, culture, personal experiences, and generational wounds are the backing of many of these strong stances.

4. Recognize you cannot change minds.

Instead of trying to convince someone of something, stand by your values and perspective while expressing yourself. Often it's our own calm and unwavering convictions that speak louder than any debate ever could.

5. Never tolerate bullying/racism /hate etc.

Safe space cannot exist within the atmosphere of bullying, racism etc. When this occurs, shut it down, don't negotiate or tolerate it.

I am reminded of Maya Angelou's statements when a racist comment was said in her house during a party she was hosting.

"I'm convinced that the negative has power. It lives. And if you allow it to perch in your house, in your mind, in your life, it can take you over. So when the rude or cruel thing is said—the lambasting, the gay bashing, the hate—I say, "Take it all out of my house!" Those negative words climb into the woodwork and into the furniture, and the next thing you know, they'll be on my skin."

You do the courageous thing, a small one, and you like yourself. And then you do another two, three, and you like yourself better. And before you know it, you are able to say, "Excuse me, not in my house, you don't. You don't paint my walls with poison and vulgarity. You will not do it in my house. Out. Is this your purse? Thank you. Bye."

- Maya Angelou