A breath of fresh words
The essay "Politics and the English Language" by George Orwell has stuck with me more than any other writing advice I've read.
In particular, it's his advice to "never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print". He argues for resisting the sirens' call of stale, ready-made phrases and instead searching for the freshest, most authentic, most effective language possible for each thought.
I think about this a lot, in combination with cached thoughts. It's easy to go on autopilot and find ourselves parroting a thought that we didn't think for ourselves, using words we did not choose for ourselves.
There is immense joy and richness in the alternative. That is: when encountering an idea or question, to take the time to react genuinely to it, and to notice your reaction, and then to take even more time to decide how best to express that feeling. This requires diligently batting away gnats of responses you've heard before to the same or a similar topic.
I wish I could explain to you how important this is to me. I understand the irony of saying all this and not following up with a beautifully apt metaphor. And yet it is so.
When I read brand new and potent imagery, or when I'm able to grasp the perfect turn of phrase in my own speech or writing, it's a bright and spiritual delight. And the same is true for the meaning of the words: when it is clear that a response is not a cached thought, but a budding new feeling unfurling its leaves in realtime.
In conversation, to respond accurately and authentically will probably require taking longer and more frequent pauses than usual. You might get described as "thoughtful"! And I think that's so true; not just "thoughtful" as in absorbed in thought, but thoughtful as in showing care for others.
What a fantastically kind act it is—rather than repurposing tired, worn-out words which have lost any resonance they ever had—instead to put new stuff, your own stuff, into the world, and to give others that chance for delight.
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