This is something I think more of us should do, perhaps even all of us. That is, instead of cursing, where we’re simply repeating the foulest-sounding words we can think of, and being totally redundant, why not make our “utterances” interesting?
(Now, I am NOT saying that “I never curse…” because that would be, well, incorrect. But I try not to, especially when I’m most inclined, or motivated by circumstances.)
I remember as a kid, hearing other people curse and utter to themselves (they were usually yelling, and the loudness correlated with their frustration). In such situations, I remember thinking, “C’mon, we have a much richer vocabulary.” So, why not “utter” something else? And make it funny?
I also remember the first time I tried it.
A small group of us were trying to do something that was basically impossible, I don’t remember what it was specifically, but I do remember it involved using great strength and was somewhat like trying to shove a large, uncooperative hippo through a tiny doorway, the size of a mouse hole. In a moment of frustration, I uttered something different than simply reciting the same curse words over and over. I actually turned it into a sentence, one that kinda made sense!
I also remember the reaction I got from the people around me: It took a few moments to sink in, but then, the big guy who was known to be the most vocal and hot-tempered, who yelled the loudest, and who usually became the most “vocabulary-limited,” began to laugh. Success! First, a little chuckle, then a guffaw, and finally it turned into roaring laughter. Then, everyone else started laughing too! (In retrospect, maybe they were laughing nervously at the fact that the ‘big guy’ was laughing instead of yelling and cursing, but I didn’t care.)
The funny thing is, by changing the whole mood, it inspired innovation. Someone came up with a new idea. Then, someone else came up with an “add-on” idea that helped to flesh out a new strategy. That just kept happening over and over, and ultimately, we were successful, and we actually accomplished our impossible job—with renewed energy.
Then we moved on to the next in a whole series of a long day of Sisyphean tasks.
(You remember Sisyphus, the ancient Greek guy whose days always went the same, which consisted of him always rolling a massive boulder up a steep hill? And if he took a break, the boulder would roll right past him back to the bottom of the hill? Actually, it would just keep rolling, way past the bottom of the hill, until, by the time he tracked it down and got it back to the starting point at the bottom of the hill, he was already drenched with sweat? That guy.)
Yeah, when I was young, it seemed like every job I ever had was just like that. Hard work, for not much pay, either—I definitely remember that part, too. But I always looked at it as a way of staying in good physical shape without having to exercise and lift weights all the time—which, if I’d had the time to do so, would’ve probably meant that I was a “man of leisure.” Ironic.
Anyway, back to the story.
So, with practice, I was able to utilize and even expand my lexicon by changing my “utterances” into something that didn’t involve cursing. And for bonus points, maybe even a complete sentence, that had all the necessary grammar parts. For more points, change them into something that was thought-provoking.
Okay, here’s a “fer-instance.”
In a time of amazement, instead of saying something that rhymes with “holy kit” or “holy rap,” change it to “holey map.”
(I know—In this particular case, it only makes sense as written words (rather than spoken), but…you are reading this, ain’t-cha?!
Now…it garners a whole new meaning! A “holey map” is a map that is worn to the point of having holes in it, perhaps in key places, at a time when you most need it to plot your journey. Scrutinizing it, and trying to fill in the gaps using the clues in the parts that are still clear is not unlike the way some of our days go, right?
So, isn’t that a time of amazement? You’ve just gleaned some insight and meaning from staring at—trying to find meaning in—what is essentially an old, worn-out cleaning rag.
That sounds pretty amazing to me.
Okay, okay, maybe I haven’t quite sold you yet.
There are other examples. I can’t write them here, because this is a family-oriented blog. But I’m sure the very next time you have a notion to curse, maybe you can think of something else to say that demonstrates your command of the language?
Just try it!
If you put some thought into it, you’ll get better. As you get more practice, you’ll find yourself making profound statements that will astonish bystanders and onlookers. Before long, you’ll discover that by doing so, you change the whole mood of the situation, and by doing that, you’ll inspire novel solutions to previously insurmountable problems.
Just try it, you’ll see.
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