'The limits of our language become the limits of our inner world.'
‘The limits of our language become the limits of our inner world.’
Someone asks how you are, and out comes “not too bad,” “fine,” “yeah, I’m good.” Someone asks what’s wrong, and the best you can manage is “I’m angry” or “I’m over it.” Not because that’s the whole truth of what you feel, only because those are the only words you were ever given for it.
We were taught spelling, maths, grammar, a thousand things about the world out there. Almost none of us were taught the language of what goes on inside us.
I know this one from the inside. I grew up in a Greek-speaking home and started school with barely any English. I was put in a special class, and I carried a quiet belief for years that I was somehow less. I wasn’t short of intelligence. I was short of words, in the one language that room counted.
Here is the thing. A whole rich inner world, disappointment, grief, longing, shame, gets crushed down into the few blunt words we have. Angry. Frustrated. Fine. It’s like trying to paint a sunset with three crayons.
And this is not a judgement. We all do the best we can with what we know today. The good news is you can grow the words at any age. The moment you can name what you feel, you can begin to understand it, share it, and heal it.
What are you really feeling, underneath the word you usually reach for?
‘A crack in the render is cosmetic. A crack in the structure brings the whole thing down. What are you avoiding and rendering over?’
“A crack in the render is cosmetic. A crack in the structure brings the whole thing down.
“What are you avoiding and rendering over?”
The building metaphor here does a lot of work — it quietly signals your trade background while making the psychological point land. Here's a version tuned for each platform.
LinkedIn (professional, a touch more reflective — fewer tags)
A crack in the render is cosmetic.
A crack in the structure brings the whole thing down.
What are you avoiding and rendering over?
After 36 years in building, I learned to tell the difference between a surface flaw and a structural one. The same is true for people. We get good at rendering over the cracks — staying busy, staying pleasant, keeping up appearances — while the load-bearing wall quietly gives way underneath. The work isn't in the patch job. It's in being honest about what's actually holding you up.