islands...

When I was younger, it never occurred to me that most of what I said might not ‘get through’ to the other person. Similarly, I believed that I understood most of what was said to me. I no longer feel that way. Now it seems to me that thoughts survive the leap from one person to another only very rarely. Mostly, we are islands to each other.

I do not see this as a cause for despair, but something that, in the accepting of, allows us to be more merciful to others and to ourselves. For, if you believe that communication is normally clear and possible then, when others misunderstand you, it is either because of some grave fault on your part, or else something deliberately perverse on theirs. Neither conclusion is likely to lead to happiness. By instead accepting that communication is a distant semaphore through mist, or rain or blustery weather, I neither give myself unreasonable expectations of what I can express, nor blame others for not understanding me…