Wrestling with my Words

Words, for me, have always been a sort of – hobby.  I’m not the most accomplished articulate, but I’d like to think I can throw around a few fancy fragments and phrases – enough to lift my level of loft up a notch or two should I desire a defined discourse or declaration.  And yet, for all of my enthusiastic English efforts – there are a few words that I find difficult to annunciate and, interestingly enough – accomplish.  Two such words with which I wrestle are - specific, and success(ful). 

According to the brother’s Merriam and the most notable Mr. Webster, the word “specific” (pronounced \ spi-ˈsi-fik \ ) relates to the “properties of somethings that allow it to be referred to a particular category; restricted to a particular individual, situation, relation, or effect; exerting a distinctive influence; free from ambiguity; etc.”   I know this.  I review it, write it, and read it within my mind as such… and yet, when it should seek to escape across my lips, it becomes something entirely different.  It becomes a sputtered form of Pacific… you know, that big beautiful body of water where something “specific” is subject to share its space in a sea of insignificance, where any attempt at definitive definition is drowned within a diverse ecological expanse. 

For myself, I am a relativist.   I believe there are precious few things that fall within the structured set of “specifics.”  Everything is in relative to its existence, and relatable to the world.  Subjective rather than specific, where the world rotates in wonder –  where the only fixed concept is that change is the only constant.  Subjective rather than specific, where even myself – my views, my beliefs - are altered as additional information or alternative ideas become available.  How can I limit my scope to “specific” when so much is still unseen?   Subjective, rather than specific – I can say \ səb-ˈjek-tiv \ in my sleep.    

Success is a word that is perhaps a little less... specific…in its interpretation.  Standard meanings of success (pronounced \ sək-ˈses \ ) as defined my by friends - Merriam(s) and Webster, infer it to be “a favorable outcome…the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence…one that succeeds.”  Other “.com” dictionary offerings also include definitions with such inflated ideals as “the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like…a performance or achievement that is marked by success…as measured by the attainment of goals, wealth, etc…” – all instances that provide me with no promptings of influence or aspiration.  The generic nature of the definition of “success” leaves too much room for interpretation.  From my lips, the word “success” often gets stuck, sounding as stutter – a stammer as I struggle to define my own measure of it.   

In the perfectly paradoxical fashion of a true Carol Jean, it is my belief that the reason I have difficultly annunciating the word “success” is due entirely to the fact that it is far too “pacific” of a word, that is to say - far too vast, too “non-specific.”  Even a relativist such as myself needs some sort of…stick to measure my ability against.  My imagination runs far too rampant to be left open to such a level of interpretation!  What measurement do I hold myself to – wealth? What level is worthy of success?  I could live like a pauper and still feel like queen!  Accomplishment?  To what degree, what litmus?  Is it the accomplishment you deem worthy or notice, or that which I feel is significant to my own existence or excel-ence?  Goals?  Mine, or those the world would have me meet?  These questions, these inconsistencies are the reason that word “success” is far too subjective to be an effective evaluation of self or society.      

Given the above considerations, I am left to wonder if the reason I cannot say these “specific” words is indeed due to my inability to assimilate their definition into my life?  Do you think this is possible?  Could it be an individual flaw brought into being by my own experience, or is it a mere fluke complicated by my own overthinking?  One could say they are common “s” sound struggles experienced by many speakers, but I do not notice this deficiency as being present in my speech with other strong-sounding “s” words, and it is not something that has been a noted part of my speech for my entire speaking life… only as I have aged through my experience has it surfaced as a consistent challenge.  I’m almost to the point of accepting it as yet another individual oddity, but there are times – times when I wish to present a polished presence, when this error entirely infuriates me.  

What about you?  Have you any words with which you wrestle?  I’d love you to share your struggle as I have.