Lost in translation
People don’t speak your language until they do.
Do we write differently from the way we talk? In my case, yes—spoken and written are different languages entirely. Individuals often develop slang or codewords to keep others from understanding, or to hide a lack of knowledge on a particular topic. Concealing written text is much harder. A cryptic mind helps, and those who do it well, are often the exception.
Recently I asked somebody for help. Verbally, and probably not in the best setting, but I had thought about it for some time and the opportunity was there.
I won’t say who, but I will say why.
I’d been having a hard time containing negative thoughts toward a relationship that had ended and had little prospect of being revived. Fault lay on both sides—likely more with me, actually much more with me. And then there were external reasons, which hurt the most.
I wasn't able to talk to my children—it would have been unfair. Living in a relatively new community, I didn't have close aides. Those I trusted were cricket people who knew me primarily through that medium. I thought someone with little regard for cricket, or no knowledge of me, might work.
Probably not the best thinking. The setting was a place that served beer—yes, not the best formula.
Getting the drift? One mistake compounding another. You’re rarely as smart as you think you are.
The situation might have been saved had I communicated my wants clearly rather than cloak the message in my own insular language. The person on the other side had no chance. I know I talk cryptically and in circles— often a lack of confidence. This was a place to be direct and accept a yes or no answer. Truth is, I was asking for an improbable favour.
Neither came because I failed to ask the question: “Do you think I could talk to you about something away from here? I understand either way.”
The lesson? You cannot assume people understand your language until they do.
Nick
