WORDLOAD: Words Spoken. Labels Carried. Identity…Changed

As kids, we trusted a lie.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

Because we believed it, we spend our adulthood blaming worry and hurry on our workload.

Then spend billions annually trying to learn how to carry weight we can’t name.
Because we’re asking the wrong questions.

We fail to notice the words deciding our actions…and writing our identity.

We fill the calendar with workload trying to compensate for the real burden exhausting us—the wordload filling our heads.

The right questions aren’t,  “Why am I so tired…”
“Why do I keep…”
Or,
“Why can’t I ever…”

The real questions?
“What words am I carrying?”

Followed closely by, 

“Are they even mine?”

The answers don’t start with “Let me try…”
They start with a pause.

To recognize the sentences we’re repeating.

Broken bones heal. They become stronger.
But first they become still.
A doctor sets them in place.

Words describing moments.
Didn’t sit still.

They became labels defining us.

As kids we had no warning the cost was so high.
For words we weren’t trained to carry.
___________________________________

The hardest question ever?

“Tell me about yourself?”

Broad. Loaded.

 Like trying to explain water.

Hot or cold.
Fresh or salty.
Ice, steam, or liquid.
All, dependent on the time of day,  location, and temperature.

Just like us.

A teacher defines water far differently in a classroom than we do at home.  

And we don’t answer “Tell me about yourself…” the same in a job interview as on a first date.

Not because we’re different people.
Because we choose different labels.

The problem?

Just like water.
We didn’t choose the labels.

“You’re just like…”
“You’re just like you’re…”

“You’re such a…”

Words said by others.
Repeated internally.

“I’m so…”
“I’m just not…”

Moments became momentous, then stole momentum.

I recently spoke to a grandmother who recalled a name her brother called her as clearly as if it happened today.

She said it better than I could…

“I’ve spent seventy years trying to prove it wrong.”

A weight from family.
A brother, she also called hero.

This wasn’t at a wordshop I host,  corporate event,  or one on one.

This was my mom…

My name is G. Scott, and I write about the power…and burden of the words shaping people, organizations, and outcomes. I’ve served over thirty years in the corporate environment scaling operations and sales initiatives and teams regionally and nationally.

I have been blessed with my wonderful wife Alyson, three great kids and my first grand-daughter.

The most important part of my work? You. I hope you share your story!
If this has been tough, please reach out to a trusted friend, pastor, or counselor.
If I brought up anything that caused a struggle—please reach out to 988 the National Crisis Hotline immediately. They are there to listen and help.