To Speak or Not To Speak
When on retreat and in life, the precept (code of ethics for lay followers) that I have the most difficulty with is refraining from false speech. (There are five basic training precepts that include refraining from: 1. Taking life/killing; 2. Taking what is not given; 3. Sexual misconduct; 4. False speech; 5. Taking intoxicants). Right Speech, as it is referred to in Buddhism’s Eightfold Path, has many facets, the most obvious being lying, divisive, abusive, harsh, and unbeneficial speech. But it also includes more subtle forms such as timing, telling the truth affectionately and beneficially, and (the one I have the most trouble with) refraining from idle chatter.
In regards to the more subtle forms of Right Speech, we often get hooked through an explosion of memory and story-telling. Have you ever told a story over and over again, and with each repetition you felt more and more justified for your actions or feelings? Or worse yet, you’ve told your story to your friends and they justified for you your feelings and actions, no matter how unwholesome they were (“they” being your feelings and actions, not your friends)? All this to say, more often than not, we use our speech to justify our own anger, self-importance, our desire for fame or recognition, to deceive, to blame, to divide, to gossip.
Going back to idle chatter (sigh), it’s easy to get lost especially if your speech isn’t divisive or harmful, has good timing and complies with all the other Right Speech criteria. For those of you that know me know that I’m pretty much an open book. But after getting playfully scolded by a friend for over-sharing (and by over-sharing I mean sharing almost every detail of my life and day), it made me realize that sometimes (or a lot of times) I overshare to justify that I matter, either to the person I’m talking to, to myself, or just in this world.
As I contemplated more about this, it reminded me of how in the past when I’d be going through a difficult time, the first thing that would go out the window would be compassion or loving-kindness for myself. I would talk down to myself, judge myself, and in extreme cases, even hate myself. Yet this, in and of itself, is a violation of Right Speech, regardless of the fact that it was internal dialogue.
If anything, the internal dialogue is even more crucial because we are programming the cells of our body. You may already be familiar with Masaru Emoto’s study in which the molecular structure of water was changed when a positive or negative message was taped to its container. Positive messages (e.g. “Thank you”, “Love and Appreciation”) changed the molecular structure to snowflake-like crystals, while negative messages (e.g. “You make me sick”) clouded the water and structure. Whether you’re a believer or not in this, I do think it’s worthy to consider at the very least (“it” being that thoughts, words, ideas and music affect the molecular structure of water) especially given the fact that we humans are made up of 70% water.
So if you’ve spent years talking negatively to yourself, it may also take years to undo those messages. It can be an effortful process, but it is completely possible (I’m speaking from a few years of experience. In difficult times, compassion and loving-kindness have finally managed to stay). One of my teachers, Mark Coleman, describes this process as a block of ice around the heart. The more you practice, the more the ice around your heart melts, but you won’t really know it’s working until you break through the ice for the first time. It can take weeks, months, even years. When I say practice, it is simply repeating a few loving and positive phrases over and over. My go-to phrase (passed on to me by Mark Coleman) is “May I love and accept myself just as I am”. You can use that phrase of any other phrase that is significant for you and your life.
One last thing I’d like to mention, that has helped me tremendously, is to tune into the mental dialogue enough to hear exactly who’s voice it is. It can be your mom’s, dad’s, grandparents’, siblings’, old lover’s, childhood friend’s, or anyone else. For example, the voice that has helped me thrive in some ways, and suffer in others, I originally thought belonged to my dad. As I reflected more and listened more carefully, it wasn’t my dad’s voice, but was really my voice as a little girl, vying for my father’s attention (yes, daddy issues).
Figuring out who’s voice it was allowed me to target more specifically the internal dialogue (for example, I did the Forgiveness practice for my dad and Metta for myself as a little girl). It also gave me the space to ask myself “What is my intention?” before speaking, something I encourage you to try. There are many unique layers to working with Right Speech so be patient and, most of all, kind, when working this.
On that note, I leave you with a quote from Friedrich Nietzsche: “Talking much about oneself can also be a means to conceal oneself.”
