They say the average person’s vocabulary stops growing at age 25. I’d like to take a moment to ask exactly who are these beings known as “they”? This autonomous collective of individuals interfere in our business much more than I think should be allowed. They say; they say; they say. I’ve had enough of what they say and believe it’s about time they climbed up off our back . . . just saying.
As a writer, I feel as though it is incumbent on me to continuously strengthen my storage chest of words. Vocabulary itself is a peculiar word and lends itself to different oddities.
For instance, have you ever read a book or engaged in a conversation where a word was used that you were unsure as to its meaning? Instead of asking the definition of the word or looking it up in the dictionary, you casually and confidentially maintained an air there was never any doubt as to your knowledge of the word itself.
If this happened while you were reading, you found it necessary to tell yourself exactly what the word meant without missing a beat, whether it is fact or fancy.
Funny things these objects we call words. They can cast a hold over us that we cannot explain. Make us feel intelligent at times and like a blithering idiot during others. Tell us a story fit only for the ears of kings and with the next utterance comfort a child with unintelligible babble.
All in all, what could be better than a word? You can talk to strangers, friends, family, children, animals, inanimate objects you choose to address. You can strike up a conversation with a tree or you can have a seat in a quiet place and talk to yourself, but the best usage for the many words and what we are able to do with them is praise for our Creator and the many blessings we receive through combining letters into words.