RSS Feed

Lead with Your Kidneys, or, How to Be Direct, in Writing and in Life

Posted on
Lead with Your Kidneys, or, How to Be Direct, in Writing and in Life

The other day Sergiy (my Ukrainian ESL Skype student) and I worked on a lesson from his book entitled “Everyday English: Softening the Message.” We discussed differences among the following:
Help me.
Can you help me?
I wonder if you could help me?
I was wondering if you could possibly help me?

“Notice,” I told Sergiy, “when we are being more direct, we tend to use less words.”

*  *  *

After the lesson, I went to a yoga class taught by a middle-aged yogi I’ll call Matthew. Usually he’s very mellow — sort of a “do what your body tells you to do” type of teacher — but today he was working us really hard. The woman in front of me sweated so much she looked like she’d just stepped out of the shower.

“As you come into downward dog,” he told us towards the end of class, “lead with your kidneys and let them draw your body upwards.”

Hmm, I thought. I don’t actually know where my kidneys are.  But I tried as best I could to lead with them.

He walked to the girl next to me. “Lead with your kidneys,” he told her.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” she huffed.

“Just tighten your abs.”

“Oh,” she said, and I bet she was wondering why he hadn’t said that in the first place.

As everyone was packing up their mats, Matthew asked me what I’d thought of the class.

What I wanted to say was that it had been a really good work-out, but I felt like I couldn’t say that. I didn’t want to make it sound like I was comparing his yoga class to an aerobics power-hour at the gym. I know that feeling the burn isn’t the point of yoga.

So I flipped through my catalogue of new-age vocabulary, trying to find a word that would mean “like an aerobics class but more spiritual.”  I couldn’t think of anything.

“It was very…invigorating,” I ended up saying, but that wasn’t true at all. I didn’t feel invigorated. I felt tired. His class had worn me out.

This is where your kidneys are. Who knew?


Lately I’ve been realizing how often I soften my message.

“Sometimes I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me,” Paul said the other day. “I know you’re trying to not hurt my feelings, but I wish you’d just say what you mean because I get confused.”

He’s right. There’s no sense in softening the message if it means people don’t get the message at all.

So I’m making an effort to be more direct: to figure out first what it is I want to say, and then to find the most effective way to communicate it.

I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, but I also don’t want to end up saying something that is so vague or convoluted that it loses all meaning.

And I think the same goes for writing. Be direct. Be clear. There are exceptions, but for the most part, say exactly what you mean.

I remember a grad school class in which we looked at a description of a character crying.  It went something like this:    Her eyes were two pools of water, and as she blinked, the crystalline tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. 

“Why not just say, “she cried?”” the professor said.  “It’s cleaner.”

At the time, this piece of advice shocked me. Wasn’t good writing “descriptive as hell?” Was it possible that a two word sentence could be considered better writing than a long one filled with descriptive language?

I’ve come to realize that it is possible, and usually preferable.  Being direct is usually the best way to convey your meaning, and as I told Sergiy, when we are being direct we tend to use less words.

So that’s all I’ll say.  For now.




About evalangston

Eva Langston is a writer, among other things.

2 responses »

  1. This post brings to mind a lot of career advice that I received while working at my law firm in NY! Apparently, not only are female professionals generally less likely to voice our opinions in meetings, when we do it’s not uncommon for us to couch our opinions in all kinds of qualifying language (“it seems,” “maybe,” “might,” “possibly,” etc.), even when our thoughts are just as insightful and valid as those of our male colleagues. I realized that I do this a LOT, and it’s such a silly thing to do! I wish that I didn’t so frequently feel the urge to soften the impact of my opinions. You wouldn’t believe how many “seems” and “maybes” I’ve deleted from my professional communications since I came to that realization. Your post makes me wonder how I’ve deployed that army of qualifiers in my manuscript… hmm….

  2. Pingback: My 400th Post, or, Say What You Mean! | In the Garden of Eva

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: