But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.”
~
We often hear that doing the same thing over and over while hoping for a different outcome is insanity. But to me, it is deeper than that. It is human. We cling to what we know, even when it no longer works, because it feels safer than the unknown.
The path of self-awareness asks something different from us. It asks us to pause and turn inward, to take responsibility for the quiet working of our inner world. Some of us are willing, some reluctant, and others not at all.
I have long been fascinated by the language we use to narrate our lives. Words are not just descriptors; they are energetic signatures. They shape our choices, our reactions, our sense of possibility, and often the outcome itself.
Because we are creatures of habit, our vocabulary becomes habitual as well. We get caught in an unconscious loop that reinforces the very patterns we say we have outgrown. The brain wants efficiency over conscious effort. It will choose familiar thoughts over liberating ones every time, unless we intervene.
This is why the mastery of anything requires repetition. Not force, but gentle, consistent redirection over time. If we want to see change, we must be the change. And often that comes in the most minor shift, a single word.
Science tells us that language has a biochemical effect on our bodies. But I felt this long before I ever read about it. Thoughts are things, was a phrase I heard as a teen. Be careful what you think, you may make it happen.
My first experience of this came when a friend made a prank call to another friend, claiming her cat had been hit by a car. Tragically, the cat was hit by a car just days later. Thankfully, the cat survived. Whether it was a coincidence or a premonition, it left a lasting impression on me. Another powerful example was embodied by my mother. She was never ill and rarely even caught the common cold. Once I commented to her about this. Her response was simple, I don’t have the time to be sick, and therefore she never was.
Be careful what you say. And how you say it.
Brains don’t rewire instantly. Change takes time, just as shifting a habit does, but it is worth the effort. Notice what happens when you replace “I have to” with “I get to.” Gratitude may arise in your body. Your breath may deepen, and your shoulders may soften.
This is the quiet reprogramming of our thoughts- not through intensity but through energy—the conscious use of vocabulary, choosing words to elevate rather than to diminish.
Change begins in the smallest syllables. And those words repeated with intention become a new way of being.; starting with how we speak to ourselves.
It has taken me most of my life to offer myself the encouragement I so easily give to others, and I used to laugh at my impatience with my own progress, even as I motivated others with a soft, uplifting voice. I am not sure when the transformation began, but I suspect it was when my mare, Sheba, came into my life. Her strength and intensity signaled to me to slow down and do less.
By doing so, she showed me again how the softest touch could yield the most significant gain: fewer words, fewer cues, more intention. The language of change is quiet. It asks only that we return to the present with clarity and a willingness to evolve.
Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words.”
~
