I love The Cardigans. I think their lyrics rock. And really, when you’re listening to a song you’re listening to the story and relating to that, not the little black balls and squiggles that make up the tune (though a nice tune obviously helps).

Anyway, while munching down my Saturday morning Coco-pops (apparently in the last year or two Coco-pops have become a healthy breakfast option full of calcium and essential vitamins which gives me free licence to eat them whenever I like) I got to thinking how difficult communicating really is. I mean, what are we trying  do when we talk? We’re trying to spill out, in a sensical way, thousands of little words that make up a million tiny ideas held in a lump of highly intelligent grey meat. And we’re trying to do it in a way that makes sense to someone else’s three pounds of flesh. As The Cardigans say in their song Communication, “I’m talking and talking, but I don’t know how to connect”.

When we communicate, we’re trying to create a connection. We’re attempting to forge a common path that allows the distribution of ideas, feelings and emotions between one person and another. What we often get, however, is a confusing maze of frustration where every turn is blocked by preconceived ideas and opinions. And at the centre of the maze (if you ever get there) is an angry little deaf man who likes to defend his Opinion with sly jabs of the Sword of Semantics.

I often get lost in the maze of communication. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a terrible communicator. Which would appear to make writing a poor career choice. However, I’ll clarify that little tidbit with the statement that I’m a terrible verbal communicator. I can never find the right way to express myself when I talk and I often end a conversation trying to remember exactly what it was I set out to say and wondering how it ended up so that not only did I not get to say what I meant, but also how I managed to say a whole lot of things I didn’t.

One of the most beautiful things about the written word is that it gives you time. You can edit, revise or change your mind. You can really think about the idea you are trying to portray. You can get your ideas in order and present them in a clear, concise and understandable way. You can make a connection with your reader and you can give them the time to stop, listen and understand. And, if you’re good, hopefully you’ll get them to understand your words in the same way you do.

For my part I think I’ll stick to the advice of the late Franklin D Roosevelt, a man who I believe was an incredible communicator:

“Be sincere; be brief; be seated.”