The Wordless Language

I consistently find myself on an endless search for “the point” of things. From every childhood “but why?” to the critical analysis of my young adulthood, every decision that I make is usually preceded by some sort of revelation of the purpose, gain, or even sacrifice of the consequences. Even my decision to enter the Honors Program wasn’t without a “why should I do that?”, though my ultimate answer was, “why not?”. 

It didn’t take long to realize that “the point”, largely, but not completely, of the Honors Program is to analyze the human soul and figure out what we’re supposed to do with the  mess we’ve made of it. Naturally, my first question in class today was, “so what’s the point of all this music stuff?” Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I got the point.

There’s a wordless language of the soul that no philosophy can define. This non-discursive nature of things that has been such a big deal all semester is really an essential part of the human soul that we must not overlook. Even amidst the texts and philosophy, there’s a certain nature of things that rhetoric cannot relate. I believe that’s what creativity is for.

Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables and the Hunchback of Notre Dame, said, “Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.” Creativity is the wordless language that steps into the chasm of rhetoric and emotion and somehow transcends the two into a sufficient expression of the soul. There’s a richness in creativity that is conveyed throughout every era of history, a depth that lingers far longer than a word well spoken. Philosophy and literature go hand in hand with art and creativity to create culture. Though all of us are pursuing different fields of study, we are each a student of culture, in whatever emphasis we choose to do so.

Our longing to create is the conception of culture, and therefore the origin of the music, art and dance of the Renaissance period (and modern-day). I find it interesting that the Pavan was a mournful dance when our current culture considers dance an act of frivolity. When there was no eulogy to properly convey the grief of an infant’s death, the people created. And art - whether in visual, musical or physical form - sprung forth.

So that’s why I find myself in this endless cycle of pouring myself into a stack of books in the library, only to go straight to a practice room to pour it back out through a piano. Our natural response to learning, knowledge and study is to create. Throw in a bit of divine grace and somewhere in the mix of things, the soul is challenged, revised and grown into a new creation. For he “created our inmost being,” (Psalm 139:13), and the source of our creativity is the heart of the Creator himself. Though these souls of ours have been distorted, at least they can also be redeemed by the Creator that “makes everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). 

I’m pretty sure He’s the point of it all anyway.