Open Sesame.

Last night I devoted a blog post to Inca, Sarah’s canine companion. Today, after months of deprivation, I got to renew my acquaintance with the little princess. And that had me wondering.

My mother used to tell me when I was a kid that I should be careful about the words I use, not because of the danger of misapprehension arising simply from linguistic nuances, but because words have the inherent power to effect changes.

I subsequently learned that this is a widely accepted doctrine in arcane traditions. So is it true? If so, does it mean we can have whatever we want – or bring about any number of desired changes – by the simple (or maybe not so simple) expedient of using the right words in the right way?

That’s a bit of a worry, because it would mean that any word I uttered might be having an effect on other people. So should I stop talking? Should I stop writing? I once wrote an article for an authors’ forum about how circumstances in my vicinity sometimes carried odd echoes of things I’d written in stories. Is this true of all writers? Do writers, being people who possess an uncommon degree of prowess with words, somehow develop an otherwise latent ability to influence events with them?

I don’t know, but obviously I can’t stop talking or writing; the drive to communicate is one of the strongest aspects of my makeup. It’s an interesting thought, though, isn’t it?

Oh – nearly forgot. I talked with M’Lady S today, too. Fancy forgetting that bit!