There comes a time in life when things just happen, and they happen twice. I say twice even if they don’t actually occur twice, although they might given enough time. But it is clear to me that I have reached that point in life–whatever it is and however I got here–where I repeat myself. In that sense, things are happening twice if only in my mind, which makes me think of Jaques’ soliloquy about the seven ages of man in Shakespeare’s As You Like It.
I’d like to blame this on teaching and having to repeat myself in the classroom. That’s true, although most of the time it was to remind students that anything they could ever hope to know or ask was in the syllabus. Try reading it. I stopped nagging them as I eventually succumbed to the slow drawl of time and settled into the role of cantankerous professor. Well, if not cantankerous, then cranky. You’d be cranky, too, if you had to do as much grading as a Caltrans road crew.
But it’s not teaching that pushed me inexorably toward the point of what I’ll call “doublespeak.” It’s age and the twofold effect that aging has on the brain. To wit, repeating yourself slows the pace of thought so that you have to listen to what comes out of your mouth and either stand firm or laugh at the inanity. Hopefully, the person you’ve just repeated yourself to will appreciate both, even if that person is you, especially if that person is you. Over time, they call this wisdom.
The second effect repeating yourself has on the brain is to slow you down. This is a good thing. The only time it isn’t is when your intake valves have built up so much carbon from driving around like the little old lady from Pasadena that your engine has to be cleaned. It’s costly. Other than that, slow is a good thing. I can’t tell you how many times I have given up trying to understand people who speak like they’re running out of oxygen. They self-implode with words. I’ve had better success following natives in France or Brazil in those languages.
Doublespeak has negative connotations, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the realm of politics. I say “realm” as if it were a kingdom, and it is. The heir apparent to the Democratic Party should be given a place in the doublespeak hall of fame. We are all aware of the phrases she repeats, except that there is no admission of inanity. Rather, she doubles down on her doublespeak, which is, as Eliza Doolittle’s Professor Higgins says of backward-reading Hebrew, “absolutely frightening.”
The other negative connotation of doublespeak is typically Orwellian; that is, speaking out of both sides of your mouth. Telling people what they want to hear may be ingrained in politics as part of its mimetic function. We mimic or imitate other people. Trump has done this in the past and gotten into hot water for it. He, too, doubles down when things get dicey. But this has become so much a part of the political ethos in this country that it is no longer just white men who speak with forked tongues.
I try not to speak that way. It’s easier not being beholden to anyone like a boss, political party, or major institution. But even if you are, there is great value in talking to yourself and repeating things as long as these are not signs of a pathological condition. If they lead to a better understanding of the self and acceptance of who you are, then you’ll have a better shot at happiness in life. You might also develop the critical ability to cut through political doublespeak.
Along with doublespeak, I’ve noticed another linguistic phenomenon that I would love to work on. I call it “no speak,” which occurs when you no longer feel the need to dominate, manipulate, or perform. It is a spiritual discipline that may be the greatest of the “speaks” but also the hardest. I tried it the other day at a church meeting and was partially successful, which is hopeful. Thankfully, they’re a forgiving group.
Thankfully, they’re a forgiving group.
Image credits: feature by Ryan Zazueta on Unsplash. Gallery images from Unsplash (clockwise): zebras by Dmitry Chernyshov; rhinos by Marc Witzel; giraffes by Sutirta Budiman; marionettes by Robert Zunikoff; cats by Viktor Talashuk; sheep by Jørgen Håland; doors by Joshua Michaels. Want more? Go to Robert Brancatelli. The Brancatelli Blog is a member of The Free Media Alliance, which promotes “alternatives to software, culture, and hardware monopolies.“
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When repeating yourself is a neurological symptom–and it is with the very old, especially if they have dementia–then it’s called “perseveration” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perseveration. But I also find young people, who are just bad at talking, to do a lot of perseverating as well as rambling. Additionally, I find that the young repeat themselves a lot and they also have a tendency to ramble.
There can be a good sort of slowness that can come with age–an energy-conserving, a measure-twice-cut-once type of deliberate slowness. Apparently the Marines have a saying, “Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”