“Later, nothing happens — and that is the mercy.” Yeah... My shoulders unclenched on that line like my body understood it first. I finished the piece feeling weirdly slower, like someone turned the volume down without asking me.
It’s so thoughtful to consider how the body feels in general, I don’t pay enough attention to this and this was a great reminder. To apply this to writing makes so much sense, and is great advice for fine tuning sentences or paragraphs that don’t feel right or are ‘flat’ like you mentioned. I appreciate that you used e-mails as an example because I have used this technique but now when I use it, it will have more substance behind it. Definitely going to use this approach the next time I edit something I’ve looked over too many times, it will offer a fresh perspective. Grateful for these notes and observations!
Thank you so much for such a thoughtful and detailed reflection Gub.
Whilst emails aren’t our normal form of creative writing, it felt right to take this out into the “real” world so people could experience this not as a creative technique, but more as a form of communication through the body first, and regardless of context.
Really pleased you’re finding this useful and do reach out, here or in DM’s if you have any ideas or questions. 😊
Often it’s not what you say, but how you say a thing that matters most. It’s the difference between someone responding with an almost disgusted, “well they’re not wrong” or being truly understood and felt.
What stays is the sensation that language has a body and that this body leans forward or back depending on where we place the weight. The essay doesn’t teach to add. It teaches to wait.
What stays is the understanding that meaning is not only semantic, it is kinetic. Sentences don’t just say things. They arrive. They close doors. They leave them ajar. They step aside. They block the corridor with a polite smile.
What stays is this quiet revelation: emotion is not softened by naming it, nor sharpened by explanation. It is shaped by sequence. The reader’s body wants to meet the thing before it’s told what the thing is.
So when one moves a sentence, it's not rearranging grammar. It’s rearranging trust.
What stays is also the awareness that reassurance too early is a form of control. That saying “this isn’t a criticism” before the question is like gripping someone’s arm before they’ve decided to run.
And then the deepest thing that stays, at least to my mind: that restraint is not absence. It is timing. The words didn’t change. But the power did. And once we feel that, we can’t unfeel it. Every sentence after this starts to breathe differently.
Thank you for this — and forgive the slow reply. I wanted to sit with it properly.
You didn’t just understand the piece. You carried it forward.
“Language has a body.”
That line alone tells me you weren’t reading for ideas. You were feeling for weight. The forward lean. The step back. The way placement changes trust.
I love how you put it: meaning as kinetic. Sentences arriving. Blocking the corridor. Stepping aside. That’s exactly it. Not decoration. Movement.
And yes — that shift from rearranging grammar to rearranging trust. That’s the part that still catches me too. Because once you feel it, you can’t really pretend not to anymore. Every sentence starts to reveal what it’s doing, not just what it says.
Your line about reassurance being a form of control stopped me for a moment. Gripping someone’s arm before they’ve decided to run — that’s precise. That’s placement doing its quiet work.
Thank you for reading this so closely. It truly means more than you know.
Mark...your piece really highlights how subtle timing and order can shape the body’s response before the mind even interprets meaning. I was struck by how the body reacts first, softening or tensing, pausing, long before we consciously understand the words. The way a line or phrase is placed can completely change its impact, even if the words themselves don’t change. And I love how ordinary, simple words can carry so much weight when given space to land...they often feel more powerful than elaborate ones.
This really makes me think about reading and writing in a more embodied way, noticing how language guides presence and attention, not just conveys information. Thank you for this thoughtful reflection!
I needed to take a place further back in my seat so the smile could settle in.
I love how you’ve caught the meaning of what I was saying in this piece.
How, even small changes, not in meaning, but in position and posture, change how the body reads the words before our minds try and take over with analysis.
I’m also really pleased the examples, whilst simple, helped to relay that — this piece felt like it needed things stripped back as much as possible to show how meaning can harden or soften, with just the simplest of changes.
This is a shared journey, and one I’m so pleased that you and our community are on with me.
Thank you so much for your reflection and kind words 💛 🫶 💛
Mark, thank you so much for your kind words. I truly appreciate your reflection and the thoughtful way you recognized my perspective. I’m so happy today that you honored my insights with such a suspenseful opening to your reply, which I really enjoyed. Thank you once again.
Thank you for resharing @Franky Dyson 💛
💛
Thank you for resharing @mirage 😊
My pleasure 🩶
“Later, nothing happens — and that is the mercy.” Yeah... My shoulders unclenched on that line like my body understood it first. I finished the piece feeling weirdly slower, like someone turned the volume down without asking me.
Another great class for writers 🫶🫶🫶
Thank you so much Marwa!
🫶 ♥️ 🫶
It’s so thoughtful to consider how the body feels in general, I don’t pay enough attention to this and this was a great reminder. To apply this to writing makes so much sense, and is great advice for fine tuning sentences or paragraphs that don’t feel right or are ‘flat’ like you mentioned. I appreciate that you used e-mails as an example because I have used this technique but now when I use it, it will have more substance behind it. Definitely going to use this approach the next time I edit something I’ve looked over too many times, it will offer a fresh perspective. Grateful for these notes and observations!
Thank you so much for such a thoughtful and detailed reflection Gub.
Whilst emails aren’t our normal form of creative writing, it felt right to take this out into the “real” world so people could experience this not as a creative technique, but more as a form of communication through the body first, and regardless of context.
Really pleased you’re finding this useful and do reach out, here or in DM’s if you have any ideas or questions. 😊
Always love much care you put into every piece. You can feel it in every verse, every line, every word, every empty space that isn’t empty at all
Thank you so much Milton.
Your appreciation is warmly received 😊
Often it’s not what you say, but how you say a thing that matters most. It’s the difference between someone responding with an almost disgusted, “well they’re not wrong” or being truly understood and felt.
Thank you for this.
Very true! And it’s not a persepctive I had considered, but does resonate.
Thanks for sharing Dave.
This is a very very interesting reflexion.
Thank you so much Sara, I really appreciate it.
Was there anything in particular that stayed with you?
What stays is the sensation that language has a body and that this body leans forward or back depending on where we place the weight. The essay doesn’t teach to add. It teaches to wait.
What stays is the understanding that meaning is not only semantic, it is kinetic. Sentences don’t just say things. They arrive. They close doors. They leave them ajar. They step aside. They block the corridor with a polite smile.
What stays is this quiet revelation: emotion is not softened by naming it, nor sharpened by explanation. It is shaped by sequence. The reader’s body wants to meet the thing before it’s told what the thing is.
So when one moves a sentence, it's not rearranging grammar. It’s rearranging trust.
What stays is also the awareness that reassurance too early is a form of control. That saying “this isn’t a criticism” before the question is like gripping someone’s arm before they’ve decided to run.
And then the deepest thing that stays, at least to my mind: that restraint is not absence. It is timing. The words didn’t change. But the power did. And once we feel that, we can’t unfeel it. Every sentence after this starts to breathe differently.
Thank you for this — and forgive the slow reply. I wanted to sit with it properly.
You didn’t just understand the piece. You carried it forward.
“Language has a body.”
That line alone tells me you weren’t reading for ideas. You were feeling for weight. The forward lean. The step back. The way placement changes trust.
I love how you put it: meaning as kinetic. Sentences arriving. Blocking the corridor. Stepping aside. That’s exactly it. Not decoration. Movement.
And yes — that shift from rearranging grammar to rearranging trust. That’s the part that still catches me too. Because once you feel it, you can’t really pretend not to anymore. Every sentence starts to reveal what it’s doing, not just what it says.
Your line about reassurance being a form of control stopped me for a moment. Gripping someone’s arm before they’ve decided to run — that’s precise. That’s placement doing its quiet work.
Thank you for reading this so closely. It truly means more than you know.
I think I know, but I always read to feel, I don't read just to read. Some pieces land. This was one of them. Thank you for writing
Mark this was such a great article and one that I will read over and over again thank you.
Thank you so much for the reflection Monica. I’m really pleased it landed right for you.
Reach out if you have any thoughts or questions, here or in my DM’s 😊
I definitely will. It will help me evaluate my own work.
😊
Mark...your piece really highlights how subtle timing and order can shape the body’s response before the mind even interprets meaning. I was struck by how the body reacts first, softening or tensing, pausing, long before we consciously understand the words. The way a line or phrase is placed can completely change its impact, even if the words themselves don’t change. And I love how ordinary, simple words can carry so much weight when given space to land...they often feel more powerful than elaborate ones.
This really makes me think about reading and writing in a more embodied way, noticing how language guides presence and attention, not just conveys information. Thank you for this thoughtful reflection!
Dawnithic,
I needed to take a place further back in my seat so the smile could settle in.
I love how you’ve caught the meaning of what I was saying in this piece.
How, even small changes, not in meaning, but in position and posture, change how the body reads the words before our minds try and take over with analysis.
I’m also really pleased the examples, whilst simple, helped to relay that — this piece felt like it needed things stripped back as much as possible to show how meaning can harden or soften, with just the simplest of changes.
This is a shared journey, and one I’m so pleased that you and our community are on with me.
Thank you so much for your reflection and kind words 💛 🫶 💛
Mark, thank you so much for your kind words. I truly appreciate your reflection and the thoughtful way you recognized my perspective. I’m so happy today that you honored my insights with such a suspenseful opening to your reply, which I really enjoyed. Thank you once again.
Thank you too 😊