Those who want to understand you, do.
About calligraphy, people, and the joys of being understood...
“Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder”, it has often been said. There’s an openness and understanding embodied in that sentence that I always took as a positive sign. A sign that there’s wiggle room for everyone. You just like what you like, and that’s that. Call me naive, but sometimes life can and should be as simple as that. I like my red boots, you prefer another colour. No big deal. Life goes on, nothing happened. Except that, of course, it hardly ever is that simple anymore. “Live and let live” is often evoked but not quite so often truly implemented. Judging others, based on their perceived tastes and appearances is commonplace.
First impressions count. Another truism that stands out because, yes, of course, it does matter how we come together as people. Do we come in peace or do we have a knife in our pockets? The latter may be proverbial, however, I’ve on occasion found this proverbial knife stabbing me in the back, wondering why and where it had come from. You see, I have this strange habit of taking people at face value, either you behave in a friendly manner or you don’t. Pretence is something I just don’t do well so I’m saving myself the trouble altogether and just say what I think, when I think it. Trying to be polite and gentle about it, obviously, but don’t ask me my opinion if you’re not truly ready to hear it, is all I’m saying. Especially if you’re unsure which way my opinion goes and whether that is what you’re prepared to hear or take on board.
I’m not contrary for the sake of it, I promise, but I certainly have been a polarising element in many a conversation (or heated discussion, ahem) over the years. Why? Because I have always strongly felt that this is something I can bring to the table: honesty, pure and simple. Let me be clear once more, I am not a hurtful, mean person. I do not say nasty things in nasty ways, just because I could, for the sake of it. I will not, on the other hand, hold back if someone specifically asks me what I think, nor will I sugarcoat blatantly obvious facts, just because some people choose to ignore what doesn’t suit them. In this way, I have managed to both cement firm, lifelong friendships as well as lost and alienated those who just couldn’t handle it.
Nowadays, I am often torn. I sometimes get to hear (behind my back… *sigh*) that I’m “a lot” or “a handful”, phrases more often associated with unruly children, I should think. But no, no… it’s me they are whispering about, a fully grown woman who dares to speak her mind. Tragic that that’s still considered radical in 2023 but I’ll take assertiveness over meek wall-flowery any time. Not sorry about it either. I have rarely ever regretted something I said, in all honesty, as opposed to the moments when, for one reason or another, I did hold my tongue. Those are the moments I’d change if I could travel back in time. As I’ve matured into this seemingly unruly adult, I can only wish being honest and straightforward, ie direct in one’s approach, was the norm. Wouldn’t social interactions be so much more easy to navigate if we knew what people were about, truly? It would at the very least save time… as well as avoid a huge pile of misunderstandings that can take lifetimes of disentangling. So sad, no?
Here’s the rub though… Even if we are honest and straightforward at all times, some people will just never “get” us anyway. I can attest to that 100%. The thing is, those who want to understand us, do. Those who don’t want to understand us, wouldn’t if we spelled it out for them letter by letter. They just couldn’t because it’s a mindset, a willingness to stay open and make an effort. A true, innate curiosity about how others tick and what they are trying to tell us, or why.
More often than not, I feel this is lacking in society as we know it these days. There is the relentless overload of opinions and information we all have to cope with. A lot of us actually don’t cope anymore though. There is a a sense of “fullness” that translates into not taking much else in anymore. If all that fills your head are tiktoks and “alternative facts” though, then we have a problem, I should think. It’s up to us what we stay openminded and receptive for. Perhaps we should be more selective. If we are not careful with that either, we may end up with a very close-minded, too narrow worldview regardless. Same difference, annoyingly, because we miss seeing the bigger picture and fail to take in all that we could or should.
For any or all of this, we need to want to understand each other, and that’s where the real crux of it lies: so many just don’t. They can’t be bothered to even try. People shout loudly a lot but do not want to listen anymore. Worse, people do not bother to read much either, their attention spans all consumed by relentless, mind numbing doom scrolling. They may take in video clips or pictures but actual words, captions even, not really. To my eternal frustration, language that evolved to help us understand each other, to communicate in meaningful ways and connect us, is increasingly ignored and overlooked. Which is exactly where the sentiment shared in this article is rooted in… the disappointed expectation of being understood.
Let me illustrate my point (ironic, I know…). My handwriting is very energetic and rather flamboyant, considering that few use calligraphy in daily life anymore, except as a hobby perhaps. Starting in school, where I already got told off for my swirling letters, and later too (ie in times where handwriting was a daily necessity and reality still), it has been commented on how my calligraphy stands out as different from common standard scripts and takes up space on the page, occasionally eschewing the printed lines in favour of writing all over, as suits my flow of ideas. People who have received handwritten communication from me over the years have stated that my calligraphy is, by all means and if nothing else, beautiful to look at. Well done for writing in such a way that, apparently, it is beautiful to behold. Hurrah… beauty is in the eye of the beholder, remember!? As to actually reading it though (as opposed to merely looking at it), that’s where opinions differ and divide… is it legible at all!?
Well, dear readers of my conveniently transcribed and formatted writing, I choose to believe that yes, my writing is legible, all while acknowledging that it may be easier for some than others. What makes the difference? According to my experience, it is a willingness to understand what I am trying to convey, plain and simple. If you care enough, you’ll be able to read my calligraphy (eventually). Some always did, with never any trouble or doubts at all! Which further leads me to believe, looking at the individuals who have proclaimed my handwriting to be illegible in the past, it is those who are determined not to understand, who struggle. Those who believe themselves already knowing all there is to know, those who care more for what they say than what they hear/read. In short, those who are full of themselves mostly, as well as those who have allowed their minds to be filled with potentially more palatable ideas or words than mine.
Fair enough, I suppose. This makes the joys of being understood all the greater, if and when it occurs. Much to my teacher’s chagrin, I imagine, I kept my swirly writing and, if anything, it has intensified over the years. My words flow freely, in ink still, every day, on paper. I have filled thousands of pages that, most likely, only I will ever get to read as they are. Perhaps, that’s all that matters anyway. I understand myself, which is possibly more than a lot of people can say about themselves, so perhaps that’s an achievement in itself, who knows. Despite our human shortcomings and failure to communicate openly at times, we somehow muddle though. People come and go, we hurt and get hurt in return. We accept that we just can’t get on with everyone. That some people can’t read our handwriting, that some people can’t (or won’t) understand us, for reasons of their own.
I speak, read and write in many languages and keep learning more, hopefully for all my life. Will it help me being understood? I honestly don’t know, time may tell. Why bother, you may ask, and occasionally I’m even asking myself that question, too, on bad days. The answer is always the same though, as I have written before in another context: if you want to be understood, listen! So that’s what I will keep doing. Writing, yes. But also listening, reading, learning and honing my understanding of others in any language I can acquire to that purpose. It does help to listen. Perhaps you should try it too sometimes?