Faith in Words is like Faith in Magic
They can be used for good or evil.
Recently, another writer asked me about my faith in words and my courage in writing and sharing them. These questions caught me off guard. First, the questions were based on her recognition that I have operated for many years from the faith that words (and knowledge) have power, and that I am prone to (when angered) address controversial issues in my writing.
But also, I was perplexed on how to answer because I no longer have much faith in words and knowledge, nor do I have much courage to initiate healthy discourse in a public setting. When truth no longer matters and personal attacks replace intelligent rebuttals, the faith and courage required for presenting personal thoughts and conditions to the world goes out the window.
Writing (especially personal narrative writing) requires vulnerability. Not only do essayists share their thoughts and opinions, they also share a part of themselves. The goal is not only to present personal truths, but also to tie those personal truths to universal truths. But clearly, in our culture, lies, propaganda, and algorithms now make a bigger, longer lasting impact.
Liars, marketers, influencers, gossips, and haters are winning. In fact, in many ways, our last presidential election might imply that they have already won.
I admit that words have power. I believe that still with every ounce of my soul. But faith? Faith is tied to the people who write, speak, and hear those words. And courage? Well, I have always shared my truth because it is a compulsion, a lack of self-preservation, a hubris that my words matter, a trauma-based need to overshare and be understood. If I had any sense at all, I would keep my words to myself.
And for the most part, since last fall, that is what I have done. The world is filled with writers who are willing to stick their necks out, who want not only to be known but also to go viral, who push for likes and follows and subscribers and comments. The whole process of writing for the public has become a competition. Compete against other writers, defend against attackers, write for search engine optimization and strategic keywords. All the fun has been drained from the process, and authenticity (though supposedly in high demand) now requires significant risk.
I know. I was stalked by a group called “The Secret Seven” for six years. My car has been keyed and air let out of my tires. In my (25+) years of writing for the public, I have had to block numbers due to harassing phone calls at 3 a.m., and have learned to record public leaders so when they insist “I didn’t say that,” I can play it back for them.
I have been manipulated into championing other people’s causes, played by those with their own agendas, used by those who wish to work over my audience, dismissed and degraded by leaders and names in the writing and journalism field.
I have watched local award-winning newspapers degrade into sensationalism and intentional propaganda, so irate at one front-page piece that bordered on pornography, I ended up getting arrested for trespassing when I refused to leave before speaking my piece. (And would do it again.)
I have watched television media and national leaders look straight into the camera and lie. I’ve seen intelligent loved ones buy into those lies and refuse — refuse! — to hear the truth. These days, no one exerts any energy to even consider the source. Accuracy is now irrelevant.
There was a time when I might say, “I call bullshit.” These days, complete bullshit is a significant part of the game.
Saying “I have faith in words” is like saying “I have faith in magic.” Magic can be used for good or for evil, and even the devil can perform miracles. Again, faith in words is tied to the people who write, speak, and hear those words. And one of the main challenges for magicians has been to resist the dark side.
What possible faith could we have in words today? The value of American words is tanking just like the value of the American dollar. So, are you a good witch or a bad witch? How do you use your word power? Good magic is based in goodness. These days, I think good word magic is based on accuracy and transparency. I don’t even insist on objectivity, nor do I even call out for truth, knowing truth is related to perspective, knowledge, and comprehension. I might hope for authenticity, but I realize these days that might be too much to ask.
And yet, lacking faith, lacking courage, here I am, writing. Writing for subscribers and strangers, friend and foe. I write, wondering where I place my faith today, what words might magically heal all that needs healing… How do I choose to use this magic that I believe has too much and too little power? When I have weak faith and little courage and a million reasons to fear, what comforted me this week, that I might share to comfort others?
Nature.
And even that has been rather gray and dreary for May. High winds and hailstorms have blown through, and I’m still wearing my heavy winter socks and sleeping beneath heavy winter blankets. And yet —
When I sat on the front porch one day to catch a bit of sun, a bug landed on my leg and I nearly slapped it from instinct. But when I looked down, I realized it was a tiny praying mantis, who could not have been much more than a few days old. The last day warm enough to spur their hatching was two days prior.
At that size, they are vulnerable, without wings or any defenses. There’s a reason that hundreds emerge at once from the ootheca (egg cocoon) set out last fall. Not many of them make it to full size.
But also, when that small, they can run like the dickens. As adults, they become slow and predatory, but when first hatched, they can move. When I reached out a tender finger to greet him, he was gone, and I was smiling.
It has been 18 years since I bought four oothecae on eBay to introduce praying mantis to our micro-environment. My goal was to bring in a natural predator for the brown marmorated stink bugs that were ruining my beautiful heirloom tomatoes every year. That many years ago, the egg casings were $10 each. These days, they go for about $35 a piece.
For many years following, come fall and then spring, I would come across one here or there on my walks, and would tenderly relocate them to the garden plot. I have not found any the last couple of years, but as of this week, I know they’re still out there.
If you have never witnessed an ootheca hatching, it is equally cool and creepy. I can’t really describe it, so here’s a video:
It may not soothe you, but I do find it comforting that this happened somewhere near our home this season, despite the rain, and hail, cool temperatures, and high winds. If those little guys can survive the current conditions, we can too. That’s a comforting thought. Of course, praying mantises don’t have words, and the mantis is the only animal known to listen to its world through one ear. Maybe there’s a lesson in that, too.