On the language of conversation

I ended my article last week with a Native American proverb: “Stop, listen. If you talk all the time, you will never hear anything.” Let us continue from there this week.

There is a condition that constant talking generally carries within itself: In such conversations, the person who holds the floor does not think about the language, spirit, balance, or measure of their speech; they dump the piles of words they have crowded into their language onto the person in front of them. Yet, everything that becomes excessive in life can tire a person, and words are included in this. Paracelsus has a very beautiful saying: “Everything is poison. The important thing is the dose,” he says. This is exactly where the measure lies: to always keep the limit, the purpose, and the boundary in mind; to remain faithful to the spirit of the conversation. It seems clear what that spirit is: to be in harmony, to share troubles, not to monopolize time, and not to focus solely on one's own voice. In short, one must not succumb to the arrogance of the voice. 

While on the subject of dosage, I would like to continue with another language of conversation that crosses boundaries. In some chats, the speaking party can almost surround you with their sentences, voice the questions along with their answers, and take the words right out of your mouth. In such cases, there is neither room left for you to speak, nor words for you to express your feelings and thoughts. Because the person in front of you has closed almost all paths of conversation and has killed all the words that were to flow from you to life at the very birth stage. This is a kind of poison; the dose has been exceeded, and boundaries have been violated. If those boundaries had not been violated, the other person's thoughts on what and how they think, their feelings, and the ideas they agree with or reject would have found a chance to live. However, the person who once again succumbed to the arrogance of their voice has destroyed all of this in one fell swoop. Relying only on their own voice, on the existence of their voice, and ignoring the existence of the person in front of them... Yes, it is literally the denial of this existence. Let us elaborate on this a little, if you wish.

Opening space for the words of the person in front of us during a conversation is, contrary to what is thought, a greater call. With this call, space is opened not to the voice, but to that person's experiences, their objections or acceptances, their aching wounds, their hurt spirit, their feelings that have reached a dead end, their assumptions even if they are wrong, or their anxious thoughts and obsessions; they are listened to. What is essential here is to “understand” the person in front of you, not to “approve” of them. But you must first listen to and understand the person you are going to approve or disagree with. “Passing judgment” without understanding is a hostile attitude and is incompatible with camaraderie. 

When we say judgment, we undoubtedly think of judges, and from there, courts. But if a conversation creates the feeling of being held accountable at a courtroom bench and defending oneself before a judge, then the wisdom of conversation, the virtue of listening, and the meaning of chat have disappeared there. In such times, it is not the maturity of understanding that is written in the book of time, but the cold words of courtroom language. A heart that is shivering, anxious, and worried withdraws into itself even more in such times; it loses its way even further with its heart and its words that remain speechless.

As can be seen, speaking is a human practice that contains many measures within itself. It requires thought and effort. Just like “becoming human,” “speaking” also occurs as a result of certain indicators and when certain qualities are fulfilled. Otherwise, not every voice represents speech, and not every human represents humanity. In such cases, I listen to Prof. Engin Geçtan, a wise name I value very much, and I try to find my way in the light of names who have concerns about humanity, especially him, and who strive for this cause. I know my deficiency will not end, and completeness is not possible, but our awareness will always guide us. I leave myself to his light. 

In that case, let me conclude my article this week with these lines, which are filtered from the language of that light and have also become the voice of a folk song:

“Our windows face the wind

What you call conversation is face to face

If you could enter, see what is in this chest of mine

It is against the strangers I laugh and play with.”