Thank you notes sent by real mail, three-page letters recounting a voyage to distant lands, referring to men as Sir and women as Madam or addressing a teacher by his last name; all lost delicacies of the art of expression. Not merely. Lost art, yes. Lost values and depth, definitely.

I remember reading a biography of Marie Curie*, written by her daughter Eve. She had collected her mother’s early correspondence with her own sister, at the beginning of her journey into life. Marie Curie was born in 1867. Her life spanned the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century. As a scientist, she participated in the historical and scientific advancements that very rapidly, indeed exponentially, shaped the nineteen hundreds. She lived at a time of great transformation in the very fabric of society and the manner in which people interacted with each other.

Her correspondence is worthy of the works of the great masters of literature. Yet she was merely a teenager when she began writing. No slang, no abbreviations, perhaps not even a hint of the vernacular of the time were ever penned by her. She wrote with the mind and maturity of one for whom it does not suffice to say, “The sky is grey today”. Each thought beautifully unfolds to reveal an entire thought process and a level of self-awareness and self-scrutiny far beyond her age, had she lived today.

While reading her biography, I discovered a great disparity between her ability to express and my own, and that of the people of my time in general. I think my mother might have lived on the cusp of the final great transformation of the art of the written and spoken word. In her time, students still had to study the classics, learn to write properly in every single class, not only in language classes and, perhaps most importantly – that is if we are to preserve any glimpse of the art - had to address their teachers and elders as Mister or Madam.

I often think it is a great mistake to allow children to call teachers by their first names, or adults to do so with their employer and colleagues. It completely shifts dynamics and the proper balance of respect. It is actually worse in French, my native tongue, because of one little word: “tu.” When addressing someone with respect, one would say “vous” which, for the purpose of illustration, I will equate with the more formal, ancient “thou”. In this sense, using “tu” when addressing a superior or teacher would be similar to saying “hey you”. Let us say that it would be more than a tad bit too familiar for a queen or president!

Psychologically speaking, there is a remarkable difference between how one resolves conflict, or behaves in a business setting, depending on the use of a first name versus last in addressing colleagues or superiors. Imagine a courtroom where the Judge is referred to as Larry. Formality has its reasons. It works. The rules of engagement for the courtroom could very well apply to daily interactions at many levels. They lead to a conscious exercise in proper phrasing. This, in turn, stems from a conscious effort to select and shape one’s thoughts. It is not manipulation, though it can be. In its pure and honest form, it is a willingness to express out of respect and to seek clarity.

There may exist a documented account of the focus and behavior of children in schools where certain rules of engagement are enforced to this day. Where, simply, students do not call their teacher Mike or Debbie. I am positive it dramatically affects the quality of a student’s learning experience and his or her self-esteem also. It also affects how they interact in the world at large.

This is, quite simply, an exercise in inner decorum, much as wearing a tucked-in shirt and clean pants is an expression of outer decorum. It sets the tone for daily human interaction so that respect remains a central focus in all dealings. It also sets the tone for proper form, much as choosing to sit up straight at a dinner table. It reaches far beyond rank or social status. Truly, this sort of decorum dissolves differences rather than promote them, because it establishes an equal tone of respect for all.

What sort of a person would I be today had I chosen to say Mister or Madam to my teachers and employers, even though they did not request this? Today, new rules apply. We believe that we create common grounds and put others at ease when we casually announce, “You can call me Joe”. In all honesty, and based on my own experience, I believe this leads to more conflict because it is an invitation to disregard structure. It is similar to a language teacher inviting his students to disregard proper grammar. It contributes to our inability to communicate clearly and, sometimes, even our ability to communicate intelligently without rushing or stumbling upon our own emotions.

Slainte!

*1911 Nobel Prize in Chemistry for the discovery of the elements radium and polonium.

As I read some of my blogs, it does not take very long for me to notice a rather prominent pattern. Though at the time I write them I feel I am perfectly at peace and simply writing as an observer, I believe it is fair to say that most express a level of criticism about a situation, social behavior or personal experience. I sat back for a while to contemplate this observation and attempted to formulate a list of possible topics that would not dwell on identifying pros and cons, best practices, fairness or injustice. I found the task nearly impossible.

Language is especially designed to qualify, compare, explain and analyze. Our brains are designed to qualify, compare, explain and analyze. In fact, truly objective observation may no longer exist. A simple statement such as “the pencil is blue” may seem objective, but the fact that I chose to qualify the object by naming its color, as opposed to its shape, demonstrates a subjective selection. The pencil may also be described as round, long, short, or even purple by someone who perceives a slightly different shade of blue.

However, for the sake of momentary abolition of criticism, instead of commenting on a situation to determine and expose what I feel is appropriate about it and what is not, I thought I could perhaps select an object I like and describe what I like about it and why. In order to do this, I must use subjective observations, express preferences or relate to situations I have enjoyed or disliked. In the end, there is no way around some form of criticism. The very choice of one object as opposed to another is an expression of bias.

It is quite interesting how we feel compelled to remark on the events around us. This seems to be our way of stating who we are and that we exist and stand for something. A dog observes a situation, may be on alert for its own safety while there is noise or while others involved show anger or fear, but within moments, it lays its head back down. The show is over, being resumes. There is nothing to comment on or discuss. It was just an outburst; it was not what being is all about. I wonder how my life would look if I were such a peaceful observer, if I were so in tune with being that I could observe all that I observe in the world and not translate it into words

What if we used words only for the essential? What if we used words only to say hungry, thirsty, yes, no, love, like, dislike, cold, hot and so forth, only to express what is felt or needed in the moment. This level of communication, which is very complex in its own right, exists today amongst thousands of creatures. It seems the main difference for us, humans, is that we use one word in addition to these: we say “I”.

“I” is the shortest word in our language, yet it is the most expansive. All our conversations, explanations, observations and exclamations serve as building blocks to set the stage where we tell the world who we are: I am afraid, I am angry, I like this, I do not like that, I think this is right or I think this is wrong. Every time we comment on something, we are in fact saying, “this is what I see, this is what I believe, this is who I am in the midst of this situation and in comparison to others”.

“I” is so expansive that, even without using it, every utterance delivers one message: “This is who I am”. This may be the truth, or it may be someone’s perception of the truth. I may say certain things about how I live and someone who hears me could jump to the conclusion that I am, for instance, a Democrat, simply based on the sort of observations I have made. How we live, the type of car we drive, the way we walk, dress, react, everything about us is an extension of two words and all variations of those two words. The person who speaks or acts is saying, “I am”; the person who observes thinks, “You are”. Even when we are silent, our minds observe everything based on these two words.

I am someone who may or may not have a blue pencil in my hand. While I put these observations into word, my dog slept. Writing this made me stop and just sit here. For a fraction of a second, there was no I.

Slainte!