The power of the unsaid
Have you ever been asked a question that was obviously ‘loaded’?
Let’s say you’re in a park, moving your body in an unorthodox way. While most people are jogging, playing with their dogs, sitting or doing push-ups, you’re swaying with the wind, eyes closed, lost in your own world. For you, this is totally normal. You’re just moving – feeling into your body in a way that you enjoy, based on a particular urge. Now most of the time, nobody watches you. But let’s say on this occasion, someone notices you moving this way and your particular taste in movement strikes them as being ‘strange’.
Let’s now suppose that this onlooker decides to approach you and asks what you’re doing. This could come across a couple of ways…
It could be a curious, interested and open-minded “what are you doing?”
Or it could be an accusatory, judgemental, closed-minded “what are you doing?”
I’m sure you’d be able to discern that the first kind of question feels inviting whereas the second feels like more of a conflict. The emotional origin of the question usually seeps through between the lines. Sometimes the origin is obvious – usually when the person asking is a good communicator. Other times it’s harder to tell where the question is coming from.
Either way, we are always reading between the lines in our interactions with others, even if we aren’t consciously aware of it. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution have honed our ability to read subtle cues – body language, facial movement, vocal tone, eye movement to name only a few – to the point where many consider themselves to have a ‘sixth sense’. When people talk about ‘aura’ or ‘energy’ – it’s just their way of describing very subtle cues, which we could probably explain in a more ‘down to earth’ way if our culture and language recognised the depths of communication.
If we imagine our communication as an iceberg, then what we see on the surface is just the beginning. So much is exchanged beneath the surface, from body to body and from sub-conscious to sub-conscious. We are reactive beings first, and conscious beings second. If we lean into this fact, the practice of relating with our fellow human beings can teach us a great deal about ourselves. We can realise that relationships are like mirrors; that everything we interact with is a teacher. Our reactions tell us a story about what we’re made of and how we really, truly see the world.
Sometimes, we embrace what we see. Sometimes we are repulsed by it. It’s interesting that we so often appeal to surface-level rationalisations, despite the fact that we use the phrase ‘a gut feeling’ or ‘visceral dislike’ when we’re really sure of something. Anyone who works in sales or marketing knows that we make decisions based on emotion but justify with logic. Logic isn’t felt in the body, so it just isn’t that powerful without it’s right-hand-man, emotion. The more in touch with our body we become, the nearer we draw towards the underlying truth – that the content of what we say is deeper than the words alone.
So, maybe all questions are loaded. It would certainly be a useful thing to assume so, knowing how much of what we’re really saying is unsaid. Feeling for the contents really is more important than getting hung up on labels or words. When we dive beneath the surface, our usual linguistic spin and flattering rationalisations become unimportant. It can be challenging, because these stories are often what we use to feel safe and justified.
To choose to lean into this practice of acknowledging ‘unsaid meaning’ takes both softness and bravery. It must be honest, humble and heartfelt. It requires kindness towards yourself and others, but also a sturdy resolve. But it’s worth it, because everything is a relationship, and everything can teach you something.