Thursday, August 25, 2011

Language of the Heart

 

Because of my love for and training in language in general, plus a natural ability in learning new languages, I have recently been made aware of people being a bit hesitant to communicate with me. I suppose that the thought might be that I will judge their writing proficiency and immediately categorize them in a niche or another. NOT SO. IT IS NOT WHO I AM.

Right now, I am new to both Spanish and construction methods in Mexico. I hope that in the next few years, I will have learnt enough Spanish to be completely fluent. Being right in a Spanish-speaking country is total immersion and forces me to become more adept in the language. Construction? Hehhhh…. I don’t think so. As soon as my casita is up and can house me and my dogs, it’ll be a thing of the past. I have no intention of starting another such project, EVER. In the meantime, I’m ready to learn as much as I can about both the language and the methods. And I suppose that I may sound “funny” to Spanish speakers. No matter. I am fearless. I recall that when I was learning English as a teenager, I once went to a restaurant and when asked how I would like my potatoes, I replied “… smashed”. When a general silence, then snickers followed my answer, I realized that I’d put my foot in my mouth—(probably to keep company to the “smashed potatoes”….!!!). Back to now though, I’m more than willing to share my experiences and whatever I will have learnt, but you can believe me when I say that it is my LAST big project.

However, the purpose of this post is not a debate on language, but to insist that there can be only one true human language—that of the heart. In my last few weeks of questions and hesitancy about continuing on account of lack of funds, it has been so clear to me that when help comes from the heart, regardless of how erudite its source might be, it speaks volumes about the person’s REAL nature. Isn’t it more important than one’s schooling level? As Bryan Adams said it in song, it’s “Straight from the Heart”. And nothing counts above, beyond, or more than that.

So I’m really touched for the help so graciously offered. After years of caring for foster children and receiving little appreciation from Social Services except for questions and probing, I had become sceptical about human nature. What I’ve realized is that social workers have a job to do and it must be “by the book”. Quite often, they are just out of college and have very little life experience, particularly being single and without children. So “by the book” it must be. But one cannot raise children, particularly damaged children, “by the book”. It must come from careful listening to their needs and its response must be “from the heart”. More than anything, it’s the only language that, with time, they will get to understand and remember, I hope.

Regardless whether one is bilingual, a polyglot, or speaks only one’s mother tongue, the only language that counts is the language that comes straight from the heart, spoken in a zillion tongues as it may well be.

Worldwide, it will never fail to be understood.

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