Because we tried ...
Keyboards produce a distinct output: a letter or a musical note. To type a word or to score music, we need a set of keys, which are derived from scales. A scale is a sequence of notes, either major or minor, sharps (#) or flats (b).
The English alphabet has 26 letters. A word has to be a combination of two or more letters - vowels and consonants. Repetition of a letter and inverted commas are allowed. Punctuation marks help us navigate through a multitude of words to get the right sense.
There was a time when there were no punctuation marks or paragraphs. Bless the soul who thought of and popularised them, allowing us to read comfortably, instead of mentally inserting punctuation marks to make sense of what is read.
When we speak, unlike when we write, we need to pause to breathe. That’s the oral punctuation mark. Those with enormous lung power can read an entire page without inhaling, whereas others become breathless and need to inhale mid-sentence. This is a good way to write and prevents death by asphyxiation. In a compound sentence, a distinct clause makes one point using a subject, verb and object, followed by a conjunction and another distinct clause to make the sentence intelligible.
This is not always true. Sometimes just one word says it all: “Go”, “Come”, “Hit” and “Vamoose”. Anyone who speaks only one word speaks from authority. The one who uses two, “Get lost”, lacks authority, probably palpitating and at a loss for words. The one who speaks in one word is in control, while the one who speaks in two is not. The one who needs to speak many words to beckon is thoughtless and unbecoming. He is lost in his own verbiage and hopes a kind soul will unravel his words and make them intelligible. The ones who can decipher are sharp. The ones who don’t are flat. The sharp lead, while the flat is the long pole in the tent holding things back.
When our thinking is muddled, so is our life. We cannot get things done through others. We do it ourselves. This happens in families and in corporate life. We become lone rangers. Wordsmiths, articulate in print. In time, great speakers too.
When Aeschines spoke, they said, “How well he speaks“. When Demosthenes spoke, they said, “Let us march against Philip.” David Ogilvy said the purpose of advertising is not to be ‘creative’ but to sell a product.
A leader’s greatest gift is the ability to speak or write. To spark the right action. To marshal the many to get the job done in the least time. Whether sparking a revolution or leading a military force or a company with thousands of workers. A vision articulated eloquently and implemented with finesse promises success. Repeatable until it is not, to conquer territory or political power.
Writing (and speaking) is also great for self-reflection and interrogation. Why do I? Why does he? Why do they? What is behind that thought? What are they seeking? What do I really want? How do I get what I want? How do I get them what they want and profit from giving it?
Mental maths helps too. Would you rather believe I am disliked and be morose about it, or say you are liked if you can be the person they want you to be? Stooping to conquer. Humility over pride. Would you rather believe you are poor than believe you are rich if you can do such and such thing? For that matter, would you rather believe you are unhealthy or believe you are healthy by doing right by your health? This way, you will be what you want to be, not what you don’t want to be. So, what stops us?
We never thought the flip side, the better side, was a possibility. Because we did not try, we don’t know if we could have succeeded. By trying, we at least learnt what failure looks and feels like. Why do we fear to fail? Is it our ego? Are we afraid of confirming what was but a doubt? If success leads to more success and then failure, should not failure lead to more failure and then success? So, what stops us? Staying power or the fear, “I knew I would fail“. Those who succeed say, “I knew I would succeed.”
“Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them.” (Mk 11:23). A religious sister took up Jesus on this verse in the Bible. Nothing happened. “I never believed that it was possible”, she said. Are we too like this sister, trying in disbelief?
Which camp would you rather be in? Of course, the second. Why are you not there? To us, the chasm between success and failure is unbridgeable. Without a bridge, we will fall and perish. Why would we fall? Why can’t I fly? Seagulls do. Never tried. So, what do we know? Those who jumped perished. Would you leap off the cliff into the sea? They fly and don’t die. Really? People jump out of aeroplanes. They don’t die. They have a parachute. To succeed, figure out the equivalent of a ‘parachute’ for that task. To craft an article, figure out the overarching idea, and the words will flow. To make music, learn the language of music: notes, scales, intervals, chords, rhythm, harmony, melody and form, and you will charm the ears off.
Is that difficult? Of course it is. To count failures, you need a calculator. To count successes, your fingers and toes are good enough. So, what does it all come down to? Try harder. More than once. Multiple times. You cannot fail but succeed. If you still fail, it was not for lack of trying. You happened to set the ladder on the wrong wall. Set the ladder on the right wall and succeed in speech and in deed.
Jesus failed. He was the Messiah. Sent by God to save Israel. Instead, he chose the cross. To shed his blood. To redeem the world from sin and damnation. Your failure could actually be your success, not as the world sees it, but as God see it.
- Mathew Anthony
