alison von r

a gentle path toward right speech

creating space for understanding

dear gentle friends,

The right word at the right time can turn tears into laughter, shame into connection, sadness into joy. And the wrong word? Well, we’ve all been on the receiving end of the wrong word. And even as I know the pain of an unkind, angry, or thoughtless comment, I also know that I’ve been the one to say that unkind, angry, or thoughtless thing on far too many occasions. It’s not fun on either side of that equation.

What we say matters.

And yet, on planet earth today, it seems that almost every mode of human communication is inundated with the opposite of right speech — from talk radio to the app-formerly-known-as-Twitter, Facebook to YouTube to Reddit to TikTok, town halls with presidential candidates to school meetings with neighbors. I’m tired of it. And I’d like to do my bit to stem the tide, so I’m leaning into a practice that Buddhists call “right speech.” There are a lot of different perspectives on exactly what right speech is, but it is generally understood to be truthful, necessary and timely, and also not harsh or malicious.

Hmm.

Before I get into my practice, I think it’s important to say clearly that right speech isn’t about limiting freedom of expression. The focus of right speech is about how and when we express ourselves, not what we express (well, unless that something is untruthful).

Being human is to communicate. We do it all the time, for all kinds of reasons in all sorts of situations. This is why being mindful about how we speak/text/write/post is both so difficult and so powerful.

These are the four questions I’m trying to ask myself before I open my mouth or hit send:

(1) Is what I’m about to say true?

I thought this question would be the easy one, because, “of course, I don’t lie!” But when I started paying attention, I realized that even if I didn’t spout outright falsehoods, I wasn’t as scrupulous about what I said as I thought. This question inspires you to become a little more careful with your words and more precise in your thinking.

(2) Is it necessary?

This is a hard one if, like me, you like to talk. But I use this question not as a call to taciturnity, but as a reminder that what constitutes necessary varies across people and situations. What is necessary when I’m talking to my footwear-aficionado friend (of course I describe every minute detail of the silver stilettos!) is different from when I’m talking to my father-in-law (who has very little interest in what I wear on my feet). This question reminds you that skillful communication requires you to be aware of the effect your words have on those who hear them.

(3) Is it timely?

This is another tough one for me. My innate tendency is to tell my nearest and dearest about whatever dramatic event occurred right when it’s live for me. This question makes me pause to remember that I am not the center of anyone else’s universe. Just because I’d like to tell my husband about the cool magazine interview I just did at 10:42 am, I also know that he is in the middle of a hectic morning. My musing can wait. On the flip side, this question nudges me to make time for that awkward talk when it needs to happen even though I would rather put it off.

(4) Is it kind or helpful?

This question is simply the positive flip on the traditional counsel against harsh and malicious speech. I like to ask it at the end because it reminds me to think about intention, the energy radiating through the words. Although right speech needn’t be kind or helpful, it is never delivered with malicious intent or in a harsh tone. If I’m ever feeling the pull of anger or self-righteousness, this question is a splash of cold water. The truth is this: speaking with gentleness, particularly when a topic is fraught, is far more skillful than speaking harshly.

This is a challenging practice for me, but I’m hoping with time I’ll get better at it. If you decide to try it out, let me know how it goes … and please share any tips you pick up along the way. May we create a world where words do more good than harm.

warmly,

alison