A word only bears the meaning to which you attribute it. That can make communicating across varied backgrounds challenging. Singapore is a good case in point. Although the first official language is English, what is generally spoken is a dialect which is affectionately referred to as Singlish. Consequently, I often only understand about half of what is going on when I’m in a group of Singaporeans!
But barring such an extreme example, I’m sure all of us have had an experience of speaking to someone of the our own “dielect,” as it were, and just feeling like neither person was really “speaking hte same language” or fully comprehending what the other was trying to express. Two people of the same language, from the same city, and even from the same neighbourhood, can have a total quid pro quo conversation using what one would think of as a shared bank of meaning attributed to their words!
Now imagine two athletes, from different sports, living half-a-world apart, discussing training approaches and methods. Now that sounds like a recipe for chaos! Yet this happens seamlessly every day on the RMAX forums. How can this be? We have a common language.
Jerry, one of the participants in the recent CST Singapore event, noted that he found what he coined the “Fancy Language” of CST to be a barrier to entry. Not understanding the conventions of language adopted by the system, he found it difficult to wade in to the practice when he first stumbled on us. But upon discussion he also told me that he saw the value in sticking to a universal set of terms and ways of describing movement which can be understood in the same way across a wide spectrum of sports and backgrounds.
I wrote about this before in relation to a judo workshop I did with Coach Hurst. I am not a martial artist and have done no judo. But I had no trouble following the directions given throughout the workshop and applying them with a partner. This is because both the verbal and movement vocabulary came straight from CST. This allowed us to communicate across sports in a way that would never have happened if I had thrown myself into a judo environment without the benefit of that common tongue.
Like any language, it may take a bit of study and practice to become proficient in “speaking CST,” both verbally and through doing the movement, but the payoff is worth it. Our common language allows us tremendous flexibility to share ideas across what would normally be formidable barriers. Vive le CST!