The language I seek

I know there is a language out there, a language of wisdom and awareness, one that surpasses jargon. A language that would make me understand the self  sans theories and intellectual debates;

A langauge that would neither colonise me nor train me nor render me fit for a system or two, but a language that would transcend all boundaries and walls of land, culture and material goals;
A langauge that would enable me to not just express but also to learn and comprehend that which currently I negate or leave neglected in but my ignorance, the ignorance of the langauge in which I speak, live and breathe…
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To listen, is to participate

I have never been bored with silence, I appreciate moments when no one speaks to me.

Unfortunately I have often been part of activities with highly vocal people, who do not just speak  but even think aloud. It makes me wonder, what am I doing here. Am I indeed a part?

But I guess I am,  and not just a dumb muted part but an active part, because I am listening. I listen and analyse what I hear, try to comprehend it, to question or justify it in my mind, with examples and experiences, process it before I apply it, and then I speak about it. 

I am unable to talk about things in process, because they are in process, who knows what shape it might take in the end, thoughts also have a process of growing, of taking a shape, a role, why should I force a stunted pre-determined growth to my thought itself, by representing it prematurely with words that might later become an entrapment.

But what gets me worried even more is that we mistake participation as noise, often created just for the sake of it, to be noticed, to be considered an esteemed participant.  I guess participation demands as much listening as it requires speech because only then do you actually communicate or have a dialogue.