Image by Louis Bavent at https://www.flickr.com/photos/louisbavent/20401245710
Dear Readers, one of the joys of the cliché is that although it might be ‘a saying, idea, or element of an artistic work that has become overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect’ (thank you, Wikipedia), we continue to use them because there is often an important kernel of truth at their heart. I’ve been thinking about this with regard to the fine collection of sayings that I’ve amassed which help in hard times (thanks to those of you who commented on a recent post).
Some relate clearly to the way that, however tough things are now, the future will be different. I love the way that they enable us to look up from our current situation and gaze down the corridor of time.
“This, too, shall pass”
“One day, this will be a distant memory”
Then there are the ones that help to put things into perspective, such as “It’s not the end of the world”. As with so many of these sayings, though, it really depends on who is saying it. If I’m saying it to myself, or to a group of people who are in the same situation, it can give us a chance to look at things more holistically, and can be strangely comforting. After all, most things really aren’t the end of the world. It can feel very dismissive if uttered by someone who isn’t in the situation, however, and I think there’s a lesson there – context is everything, and also intention. Is the person intending to be comforting, or are they just saying that you’re making a lot of fuss about nothing?
And then there is the constant search to provide a reason for what’s happened. I was amazed to find myself, as I sat on the stairs of East Finchley Station clutching my fractured leg, thinking that at least the fall had happened close to home, rather than half way up a mountain in Austria. What kind of whacky thinking is that? Was there someone ‘up there’ who resolved that I needed to fracture my leg but decided to be kind and make sure it happened within reach of a teaching hospital in North London? I am full of gratitude for how everything to do with my accident has been handled, and so full of love for everyone who helped, but on balance (see what I did there) I’d rather have remained vertical with my tibia intact.
And then there are two clichés that I find problematic. In relation to the ‘search for meaning’ there’s ‘Everything happens for a reason’. I understand that if your belief system includes an all-knowing being, or the idea of an overarching plan where everything is already ordained this can be true, but it can seem very harsh, especially in worse cases than mine (though when someone said it to me after I’d had a miscarriage I would cheerfully have punched them on the nose.) Sometimes, terrible things happen to people who absolutely don’t deserve it, and for no fathomable reason. I know that sometimes things work out for the best as a result of what appears to be a setback at the time, but again, I think that context and intention are important.
Finally, my personal bugbear is ‘That which doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger’. The saying comes from Friedrich Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Gods, and I always imagine a superhuman colossus, towering over us mere mortals. For some people, maybe the saying is true, but that which doesn’t kill me may also make me hypervigilant or traumatised for the rest of my life. It might turn me from a brave, outgoing individual into someone more hesitant to take risks. It might cause permanent damage to my body or psyche. We might be grateful to have survived, and pleased that we have rebuilt our lives, but are we the same as if we hadn’t gone through the injury in the first place? I can well understand that for some people this has become a defiant personal mantra, but to me the saying has the taste of denial and dismissal.
And finally, a poem. I’m not quite sure how this is related to what we’ve been considering, but I am absolutely sure that it is. See what you think! I love the last few lines…
“Your Luck Is About To Change”
By Susan Elizabeth Howe
(A fortune cookie)
Ominous inscrutable Chinese news
to get just before Christmas,
considering my reasonable health,
marriage spicy as moo-goo-gai-pan,
career running like a not-too-old Chevrolet.
Not bad, considering what can go wrong:
the bony finger of Uncle Sam
might point out my husband,
my own national guard,
and set him in Afghanistan;
my boss could take a personal interest;
the pain in my left knee could spread to my right.
Still, as the old year tips into the new,
I insist on the infant hope, gooing and kicking
his legs in the air. I won’t give in
to the dark, the sub-zero weather, the fog,
or even the neighbors’ Nativity.
Their four-year-old has arranged
his whole legion of dinosaurs
so they, too, worship the child,
joining the cow and sheep. Or else,
ultimate mortals, they’ve come to eat
ox and camel, Mary and Joseph,
then savor the newborn babe.
I have thoroughly enjoyed your contemplative comments here. You are right: so much depends on the context and on who the speaker is. As for the poem … the last lines are scary!
Thank you for this great analysis of clichés! I resonate with quite a few.. Especially the Nietsche one! “Keep ya Head up” as would Tupak Shakur say!! ✌🏾
Ah yes! Thanks, Anais!
I have to tell you about my neighbour, a French country vet, whose favourite saying is: What doesn’t kill you, etc. I came across a cross-stitch pattern in the fashion of all those pious mottoes – I’m sure you know what I mean – which says: What doesn’t kill you gives you a set of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a very dark sense of humour.
Since his recent full recovery from a stroke, described by his consultants as miraculous, I’m stitching him that for Christmas ;0
Love it! I’m sure he’ll appreciate it 🙂
It is what it is. Drives me nuts. Response: no, it bloody isn’t.
I forgot that one :-). So irritating!
After the last lines the whole poem is a bit scary.
“Why don’t you just take one day at a time” can be very unhelpful when it seems a struggle to get through the next 15 minutes. As you say it is all a question of context.
Oh yes, ‘One Day at a Time’ is not helpful when you’re in chronic pain, or have been recently bereaved. I think people sometimes don’t know what to say, so they say the first thing that pops in to their heads. Sigh.
I absolutely agree about the problematic clichés.
I found a bookmark which says ‘Luck is being prepared for opportunity when it comes’. I like this, for the acknowledgement that opportunity might not come, and you might fumble the bag if it does. But you can be prepared and hopeful.
Yes, I rather like this too. Thanks, Sarah! There’s also something about recognising an opportunity that comes in a form that you might not be expecting.