Finding words for the things we no longer need to say

I heard this sentence “we always find words for the things we no longer need to say” and it really grabbed me. I always question so I was really questioning it. Do we? What are things we no longer need to say? What’s the point? How much weight and importance do we put on the words? Into them? Around them? How much silence needs to linger around the words to make them feel or seem different? More or less important. More or less heavy. Words like love or pain? War? Freedom?

Where I come from language is very important and very treasured. We speak the most archaic Indo-European language that is probably on the verge of entering the list of languages that might disappear with currently only under 3 million speaking it. It has no articles and uses word endings instead of prepositions to indicate relationships between words in a sentence. Words have stresses that can totally alter their meaning depending on how they are used. Diminutives are very much loved, and the language has no swear words. If Lithuanians feel the need to curse and swear, they might call someone mean a grass snake or a toad. One of the letters in my surname is “ė”, which does not exist in any other language. I heard somewhere that this letter is a symbol of femininity because it is used at the end of women’s names. I don’t know if we can go that far but I thought it was interesting. And with all this complexity and history, there is also a lot of space in the language. I call it “you need to read the air”. The things we don’t say can be as important as the words we say. Or even more important. The air, the spaces in the between. It’s that walk with an old friend when you don’t need to talk. It’s a gasp before everyone starts clapping. It’s that silence of the bad news arriving.

Words can like apertures into things we treasure or things we are really scared of. And lately, I have been trying to find words and to navigate spaces with words that are not even mine nor theirs—speaking Russian to people who are running from the Russian invasion. Hearing compliments that I speak well. Feeling guilty I actually do but also feeling grateful as it’s probably the best way to communicate (at this point). I shared that it’s a language I have not learned at school. It wasn’t obligatory anymore when I was going to school. I have learned it by listening to others and trying to find ways to connect with them. I find it’s important to learn languages. I find it’s essential to try to navigate rooms that words open for us. I have been slowly learning more words in Ukrainian. I have been slowly learning how to sit with the pain and uncertainty. Sit in the apertures of silences. So maybe I am slowly learning about the words for the things we no longer need to say….