Seeking clarity

Michael Gerharz and I had numerous exchanges linked to the notion of clarity in communication.

We discussed how it appears and immediately disappears. We discussed how it can resemble a fog that can lift itself, temporarily or for the day.

We talked about the need to develop one’s communication into something that is clear and resonates with others.

All along, I regularly wondered how such communication could be established. Something didn’t make sense to me.

What I’ve come to understand is that being clear is important and impossible.

Assuming that being clear is an achievable state leads to an unmanageable effort.

Seeking clarity is a process one engages in, not a goal one achieves.

This is true, even when our communication resonates. What we don’t know is where this resonance emerges from. Without such an understanding, we cannot become aware of the meaning that became audible to those with whom our communication resonated.

There is an interesting phenomenon in music. Any note has a start and an end. Between the two of them, there is a moment when the note reaches its maximum amplitude. Usually, we don’t distinguish the phases: The start, where the sound is built, the peak of maximum amplitude, and the period, where the energy is continuously lost, leaving the sound to fade away. It seems to be a note; however, the start sequence of a note is how we identify the instrument it is played on.

A note without its start sequence makes it hard if not impossible, to know on what instrument it was played. Our ability to perceive a sound through its timbre was impacted. At maximum amplitude, the note might have the correct frequency and be clear, but without the start sequence, we’ve lost an essential part of the information: the one we used to identify the notes’ resonance, its context.

The sound might still be exact, but it doesn’t carry its context anymore. The context disappeared, taking away its many unknowns and the essence of the note’s individuality.