Violence

“Violence is the language of the inarticulate.”

Recently I heard this quote. An African-American man who was in Martin Luther King’s inner circle spoke it. He was explaining that he was charged with the task, by Dr. King, just hours before he was assassinated, with institutionalizing non-violence. And, over the years he had taught many non-violence methods to others. In that time, he reported that he had learned what is said above. People who do not have the capacity to express themselves in a better way, often resort to violence. Awareness of this limitation, I think, is extremely important. Not just in terms of limiting violence, but also in terms of empowering speech.

I spent years as a couples therapist, and I saw first hand how much violence there was in primary relationships. Now I understand, that that violence was frequently due to a particular kind of inarticulateness. Like all couples therapists, I stressed the importance of good communication. But, unlike many, I focused on a particular challenge of relationship. That was, when communication is good enough, so, that partners realized they didn’t like the messages they were getting from their partners.

Typically, and often mistakenly, partners try to change each other. Sometimes they assume, wrongly, that their partner is just failing to communicate clearly. The problem that couples often have is not that they are failing to communicate clearly; it is that they are unable, and often unwilling, to deal with what is being communicated. They don’t know how to handle (read, take care of themselves in the midst of) so much differing. 

What does this have to do with the amount of violence in the world? People who don’t have the necessary means to take care of themselves in situations, where there is significant differing going on, like in relationships, groups, and communities, lack the ability to communicate well, and end up resorting to a host of violent actions that convey their inabilities. This hurts — not only others — but the one who is so limited, and most of all, it hurts the bond of connection that is always present. It makes that bond seem invisible and non-existent.

As a community and environmental activist, as well as a psychotherapist, this bothers me. The personal nature of violence is well documented, and that is what most people think about when they give it thought, but I would like to see equal consideration given to the costs to the surround. We live in a culture where it is considered right to think we are not connected, where people commonly assert that we suffer because we are separated. For that reason, the belief we are already separated, much of the violence against our environment and our experience of social connection, is overlooked.

It is hard to maintain a solid sense of self in a world that isn’t what one is imagining it to be. Differing, introduces one to this reality, to the discrepancy between the reality one imagines and the reality that is. There is a great big challenge that comes with any social engagement that contains any differing. It is dis-heartening how many people are unprepared for, and unable to cope with this dimension of social reality. People are unable to take care of themselves, and therefore unable to really meet, and be articulate with, others.  When this kind of inarticulateness manifests, it creates violent rifts in our social and environmental fabric.

This is one of the reasons I am so enamored with old folks, especially elders. It seems that elders are more solid, less reactive, and more interested in differences. They have some capacity to be articulate in situations that many others find impossible, and thereby others act in ways that are oblivious of social or environmental bonds. In fact, elders seem more intrigued by differences, and because they go into them, they see the world more accurately than most. This is a service that is anti-violent. It accepts a more complex world.

I am probably as against violence as anyone, but I find that the kind of inarticulateness that gives rise to violence is not limited to individuals; it is also an expression of the inability to meet and greet a world of differences. Most of the wars that have made up human history were fought because of an inability to tolerate differing. Now, thanks to the development of some old people, I can see the possibility that we can outgrow that form of inarticulateness.

I am finding that the old like to interact. I’ve noticed that this desire is about more than just overcoming isolation; it is as much about a hunger for a more accurate take on reality. Elder curiosity, about differing, takes on the fundamentals of our being. If that perception is true, then within human reach, as part of our species’ being, is the capacity to put violence behind us. Elder interaction is a form of speech, an important form, which is rarely heard in this culture. A form of speech that can remind us that non-violence is a part of our nature.