I think words are delicious.

There are some that so adequately express themselves that I could just devour them.

Some with such onomatopoeia that I would know exactly their flavour.

I love sensual words.

And obvious words.

And words that cut through all bullshit.

I love that moment in conversation when exactly the perfect word is chosen in a sentence.

That moment where I feel like I completely understand;

like no other word could have fit there

As though life was a script that had a few spaces left to be filled in and the actor got the improvisation so bang on, that you would never have guessed it wasn’t written right there in front of them.

Words like Sensation.

Coffee.

Fuck.

Adore.

Natural.

Sorrow.

Delight.

Tingly.

Words that sound magical, or imbued with meaning or potential.

Words that do not mince their truths.

In a Yoga class one day, my Teacher was trying to get the class to tense an exact muscle in our abdominals. That one muscle not obvious in every day life. One that you perhaps don’t even know the name of.

And so she used a sentence so specific, so unmistakable, that we all knew where to follow her to.

She told us to imagine we were holding a carrot in our vaginas with the straightest face imaginable. Like there was simply no other way to explain it.

Apart from a few men who were befuddled and one woman who was horrified, having misheard the word “Parrot” in the place of “Carrot”, everyone knew exactly what she meant.

Exactly where and what to feel.

I still have no idea what that muscle is called, but because of that class I have certainly I’ve felt it.

This morning in asking my French housemate about his tropical holiday, he purely said with his proud accent, “it was a Pleasure”. He didn’t try to explain any further or dilute its meaning with more words. We knew exactly what he meant. The words rolling from his mouth…. It had been a pleasure. What a word! Pleasure.

There is something so delightful to me about people expressing the fullness of their sentences, feelings, joys or grievances. About being brave enough or confident enough or honest enough to use real words to encapsulate real meanings infused with real emotions. About using words that are true to their origin, yummy in our mouths and musical to our ears. I recall an old friend once referring to me in conversation as effervescent and I think it might be one of my favourite descriptions of all time. What a word to describe someone. What a compliment!

As such, I am endeavouring to wax lyrical more often than not in my life these days. To choose words based on how accurate they are to my expression. How honest they are.

No doubt, I will still answer shop assistants with “I’m fine thanks” rather than my life story but maybe amongst friends…my bosom buddies, I might start throwing onomatopoeia like confetti.

Confetti… what a great word.