THE POWER OF WORDS
THE POWER TO INCITE
Adolf was a passionate and hard-working member of the local Socialist Party.
Born in Austria in 1889, his childhood had brought its own difficulties. In his youth, he developed artistic gifts but eventually he found his feet – as we all do - and followed a dream. That dream was to become reality.
By the 1920’s, Adolf had become leader of Germany’s Nazi Party. His influence was dynamic, his skills unparalleled, and his authority never successfully challenged. But, arguably, the thing for which he will be most remembered was his power of rhetoric. Putting it plainly: Adolf had learned how to influence people into action. The action he wanted. His public speaking was passionate and to-the-point. There was an almost magical quality about him. How else could he command absolute authority to move millions?
Yes, you can plan a perfect speech. You can write a clever speech. You can deliver a passionate speech. And, with skill, you can even apply it to your audience so that you’re accepted, and they love you. All good rhetoric. But did this man-of-the-moment have that added magical quality?
It was only a fateful turn of events which brought his dream to a violent end in 1945.
The public speeches of Adolf Hitler will serve as an example, a study in the power of words – whether they are written, spoken, or painted – and in what they can achieve.
As we look into history, let’s remember there have always been – as there always will be – men and women who have delivered with that elusive, magical quality which cannot be taught. Thankfully, most of them will be remembered for good and not evil.
THE POWER TO CONFUSE
A tale from Antiquity to illustrate
So, this man an’ this woman, see, they’re takin’ a stroll through some very nice gardens, with nothin’ on.
AND??? WHAT’S WRONG WITH THAT?
So, they’re walkin’ on sunshine. They’re havin’ a good time.
Now the boss, the manager God arrives an’ does a spot check on them:
“Look at all these fruit trees – an’ other stuff.” (See, they were good vegans.) “You’ve got the freedom of the city an’ all, but don’t eat THAT fruit off THAT tree ‘cause THAT’LL be the end of you. You can kiss goodbye to all this.”
“Errh?”
“Yes, you eat THAT an’ you’ll die.”
So, listenin’ in not far away is Satan, dressed up as a snake. See? A slippery customer. And he can do maaagic, maaagic.
He says: “You been talkin’ to God again?”
“Yep.”
“So, what’s he been sayin’?”
“If we eat THAT fruit off THAT tree he says we’ll die.”
The snake smiles.
“You won’t die.”
And there you have it. In a word (or two).
Confusion set in back then, and confusion sets in now whenever there’s a lie.
So. Who’s lyin’?
That’s for you to find out, see? In your own time.
THE POWER TO HEAL
The collision: out of the blue.
The impact: life-threatening.
The result? Permanent damage and life-changing.
Yes, our traffic accident in the Spring of ‘95 left its mark, physically and mentally. It’s fair to say that our lives were taken to death’s door, but it did not open. The trauma, you might say, was Category One.
Initially, we were rushed to hospital. Eventually, we were able to leave for home where the long recovery process continued. It took many weeks and months. The process involved counselling. And it was during that time I was introduced to certain words that would have a massive impact on me. But only one question mattered to me: “How do I start life again in middle-age?” I didn’t have an answer.
As time progressed, another question presented itself: “What would you like to do?”
And I thought: “I’ve got a choice! I’ll get involved in some voluntary work.” (It would maybe give me a chance to build up my social skills again.)
And that was the beginning.
Now to focus on those words.
First word: WALKS. I went for walks. Lots of walks. Therapeutic walks, I called them. That’s because I chose the route, I chose the speed, and I chose the pit stops. I stopped to admire the strength of a tree. The beauty of a flower. I remember admiring the furrows in a field: how straight were they! Therein lay the healing. I was regaining control.
Next word: JIGSAWS. Big ones. Oh, the pleasure, the satisfaction of putting the pieces back together and seeing the result.
Next word: MUSIC. I was a musician. I started writing songs. The perfect medium for expressing the power of my feelings, the depth of my questions.
Next word: WRITING. About the trauma. I found I was able to translate unfathomable mysteries into recognizable, solid words.
In all these activities – and more - I was putting back in what the trauma had taken out. And time was playing a major part. I was winning. Slowly.
I suppose there’s nothing special or magical about these words. They are just words. The magic happened when they were applied to the right person at the right time. You could almost say The Spirit of The Words became active.
And there you have it.
These words played a massive part in my healing, in building my confidence, and in helping to plan my future.