"But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives."

—Toni Morrison, Nobel Lecture, December 7, 1993

We're going to die. Morrison just says it, right up front, no softening. That's the meaning of life, maybe. And then she points at what we actually get to do while we're here: we speak. We make meaning with each other, out loud, all day long.

Most of the time we don't notice what we're doing with that. We use words to defend ourselves, to win, to keep people at a distance. It works, in a way. It also closes something down every time we do it.

There's another way to use words—not to manage the moment, but to actually meet someone in it. To make room for them instead of controlling the space between you. That's a different kind of speech entirely. It doesn't perform. It creates.

So maybe that's the practice. Not being more eloquent. Just noticing, every time you open your mouth—are you closing a door right now, or opening one? Over a whole life, that's what it adds up to.