Language of Joy
Language of Joy
The best metaphor I have found of the effects of English as commonly spoken
comes from Return to the Teachings by Rupert Ross
“I (Rupert Ross) have struggled for some time to find a way to express how I perceive
the difference between my English speaking world and the world my Aboriginal friends tell me –
given to them by their languages. I have this sense that if you decide that the first reality holds constant change,
if you discard our belief in the usefulness of judgmental absolutes like “good” and “bad”
and choose to speak in terms of relative movement like “towards harmony” instead,
then a lot of other things change as well…
It has to do with the difference between standing behind the triple-pane window of your cliffside mansion
and watching the sun go down over a quieting ocean —
and watching instead the first beginnings of a sunrise over that same ocean, but from flat on your belly
on a wet surfboard three hundred miles out from the shore, as the ocean beneath you awakens.
In the cliff side mansion, there is a conviction of separation, stability and control.
On the surfboard, you hold a conviction of intimate and inescapable exposure to unfathomable powers which,
while they might let you ride them, will never let you gain control over them.
If you find yourself alone on a surfboard as the ocean starts to stir,
and watching instead the first beginings of a sunrise over the same ocean, but from flat on your belly on a wet surfboard three hundred miles out from shore, as the ocean beneath you awakens, you don’t know what it will bring you that day.
You face only true certainties are that you cannot change those waves—only the way you ride them — and that your riding will depend on how much you can accommodate yourself to their forces”
To me this says a lot about how a change in language can change perception and alter attitude and approach to life, and how attitude and approach influences my relationships and my connection to all
“I (Rupert Ross) struggled for some time to find a way to express how I perceive
the difference between my English speaking world
and the world my Aboriginal friends tell me their languages give them.
I sense that if you decide that the first reality holds constant change,
if you discard our belief in the usefulness of judgmental absolutes like “good” and “bad”
and choose to speak in terms of relative movement like “towards harmony” instead,
then a lot of other things change as well…
These different worlds feel like the difference between standing
behind the triple-pane window of your cliffside mansion and
watching the sun go down over a quieting ocean —
and watching instead the first beginnings of a sunrise over that same ocean,
but from flat on your belly on a wet surfboard three hundred miles out
from the shore, as the ocean beneath you awakens.
In the cliff side mansion, you can maintain a conviction of separation, stability and control.
On the surfboard, you hold a conviction of intimate and inescapable exposure to
unfathomable powers which, while they might let you ride them,
will never let you gain control over them.
If you find yourself alone on a surfboard as the ocean starts to stir; and watching instead the first beginnings of a sunrise over that same ocean, but from flat on your belly on a wet surfboard three hundred miles out from the shore, as the ocean beneath you awakens.
you don’t know what it will bring you that day.
You face only the true certainty that you cannot change those waves– only the way you ride them —
and that your riding will depend on how much you can accommodate yourself to their forces.
Returning To the Teachings: Exploring Aboriginal Justice by Rupert Ross