A Word on Wednesday: Humility

Humility is not the same as depravation.

I wish I had known.

Self depravation is the narrative looping to me, from me, in me, all me is that I am no good.
Too ugly, too dumb, too mean, too crazy, too lazy, too loud, too on and on unworthy.

Humility is the quality or state of being humble.
Humble not proud or haughty; not arrogant or assertive.

Depreciating, a verb, diminishing in value over a period of time; synonym, cheapen.

Now I know.

With humbleness, I whisper,
“Self, you are mighty.”

A Word on Wednesday: Caesura

Caesura is the main pause of a poem. The word originates from 16th Century Latin, literally translating to a cutting, from caedere to cut.  

The stop or pause in a metrical line, is often marked by punctuation or by a grammatical boundary, such as a phrase or clause. A medial caesura splits the line in equal parts. When the pause occurs toward the beginning or end of the line, it is termed, respectively, initial or terminal.  

Outside of poetry, caesura can be any interruption or a break, especially in a sense of pause.  

If life, one can caesura in most instances to one's benefit. The meter is to go on, to continue. It is a pause, not an end. 

A Word on Wednesday: Guilt

Shame: Who I am is not okay.

Guilt: What I do is not okay.

Growing up Catholic, I developed a misunderstanding of shame. The Catholic Church often gets blamed for this, and it is certainly not the only place one learns shame and shame is NOT central to Catholic teachings.

Guilt is. This is true of ALL Christian religions. (This is why the savior Jesus Christ is paramount to our salvation, but I'll save this exploration for the theologians and my private study on living the faith.)

Today, Ash Wednesday, we enter a dark period of reflecting on our guilt over our shortcomings, our human, inane falling short. Our "sin." My understanding of sin derives from its Hebrew root "to miss the mark." So as we all miss the mark, one must acknowledge guilt, ask for forgiveness --  from ourselves, from those we have wronged, and perhaps from a deity, a savior.

While it is easy to get suck in guilt, it is more important to seek forgiveness. For acknowledging wronging doing and making reconciliation is an active path. It moves toward peace.

A Word on Wednesday: Stylus

Stylus: noun. An instrument of metal, bone, or the like, used by the ancients for writing on waxed tablets, having one end pointed for incision the letters and the other end blunt for rubbing out writing and smoothing the tablet. Today, people picture a plastic pen-like tool for use with electronics. 

Stylus: proper noun. The name of our Sabre 38. 

Naming a boat is a tradition born of practicality. Modern practice seeps in poetic license. License to honor those loved, admire the greats, boast of success. Yacht names, in particular, often have a story and a cleverness to them. 

As a non sailor purchasing a cruising sailboat, I approached naming it with the seriousness of naming a child. The previous owner named the vessel "Twilight," which brought up images of after hours and YA vampires. Scrubbing it from the stern was a top priority. 

I forget the runners up, but it was a fairly quick conclusion that "Stylus" would make suitable moniker. I liked the idea of the boat being an instrument for my family to use to write our story on the Great Lakes. 

This season's stories have been washed away with the lapping waves, faded in the UV rays, and lost at sea. 

A Word on Wednesday: Passioneer

The noun passion is a strong emotion or feeling most often associated with lust and desire.
The suffix -eer originally occurred in loanwords from the French (buccaneer and pioneer) and productive in the formation of English nouns denoting persons who produce, handle, or are otherwise significantly associated with the referent of the base word (auctioneer; engineer.)

Passioneer is a word I concocted to describe people with an overzealous passion for seemingly innocuous objects.

Consider these hyperbole: 

- I am PASSIONATE about strawberries.

- I am PASSIONATE about breastfeeding.

- I am PASSIONATE about tennis.

- I am PASSIONATE about decorating.

Variations in career planning: 

- Helping people is my PASSION!

- Training horses are my PASSION!

- Food trucks are my PASSION! 

-Fitness is my PASSION!

I try to override my cynical side, but its familiar biting wit is hard to suppress. The word passioneer is my response to the overuse/misuse of the word passion. It's a joke I make with myself. 

The 1995 movie "French Kiss" was one of five VHS tapes I owned. My favorite line was stated by bad boy character "Luc" played by Kevin Kline, "People who say they are happy make my ass twitch." 

I find passioneers not quite ass-twitch worthy, but rather deserving of a smug eye roll. It makes more sense, for me, to find purpose over passion and to be tenacious rather than passionate. 

A Word on Wednesday: Counting

This week, I reached one year smoke free! 

At the time of this writing, I have been a quitter for:

366 days,

06 hours,

36 minutes,

and 

25.8 seconds. 

But who's counting? 

Actually, the phone ap "Just Quit" counted for me, and the clock is still running. 

It also tallied

$2,930.21 not spent on cigarettes, 

7,325 cigarettes not smoked,
and

109,883.35 mg tar not inhaled.

Someday, the precision of all this counting will lose significant meaning. 

In time, I will stop thinking about how many days since I last pulled a drag. 

Someday, I will only remember that I quit around the time I turned 40, which was more than twenty eight years after I took my first puff as a preteen. 

As a hard-earned nonsmoker, I count myself lucky to have had the chance to quit. 

A Word on Wednesday: Stronger

Stronger is not second place in a race of three -- strong, stronger, strongest. Rather, it is a record of growth. Stronger is a superlative from the root word strong and can refer to physical and mental vigor.
 
When a comparative adjective is used, it requires one to consider, than what? One must supply the other side of the comparison. Consider the Nietzsche's observation, "what  doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

Does this, now common, aphorism mean stronger than dead or stronger than you were before you encountered the thing that almost killed you?

As a ranking adjective, stronger tempts one compete to become the strongest. However, the record of the strongest will be surpassed, just as best, fastest, and tallest. Stronger, then, is only for today. Stronger than yesterday, perhaps. Stronger than another, sometimes.

Stronger than thought possible is the attraction of trying to become so.

  

A Word on Wednesday: Recovery

I decided to wrap up my Mental Health series with the word recovery. The word recovery dates to the mid Fourteenth Century, from the Anglo-French recoverie; it speaks to a "return to health."  

Contemporary usage considers recovery as the act of recovering. This first definition acknowledges recovery is not a destination, but an act, indeed a continual act, of recovering. While it may not always remain conscious; recovery from illness is ongoing. This is true for mental and physical illness. 


Recovery can also refer to a restoration or return to health. Health, we must accept does not mean disease free or all clear. Health looks like living well in the context of the conditions present. 

We think about mental illness, from its symptoms, to its diagnosis, to its treatment, and we want to think of an end. We want to think cure. Symptoms come and go, flare up and subside, present and go dormant. Yet, the illness remains; the diagnosis remains true. 

We want recovery to mean cure. But it doesn't. Most mental illnesses are not curable. The hope lies in treatment and prevention. There is no sight of eradication, or even decline of occurrence.  However, one can make a commitment to act on recovering. This repeated action becomes a habit, and this healthy habit then becomes health. 

Today marks the last day of May. While, it seems every month is national something or other month. I do feel compelled each year to consider "Mental Health" during "Mental Health Month" in May. I wish there was no need for months of awareness. So this May, I devoted my words to relate to mental health. You can catch up here: Awareness, Patient, Stigma, and Diagnosis. 

A Word on Wednesday: Diagnosis

Don't let them LABEL you! 

Don't let them LABEL your child!

Don't believe the LABELS!

The word diagnosis is not synonymous with "label." 

The medical term, diagnosis, is simple and straightforward. The noun's primary definition is twofold (a) the process of determining by examination the nature and circumstances of a diseased condition and (b) the decision reached from such an examination.

From a point of proper diagnosis, proper treatment can begin. Therefore, a diagnosis isn't something to fear or avoid. It isn't a mark or a stain. It is an opportunity. It is a classification. It is an identification. 

The medical sciences of psychology and psychiatry are far from sacred and just. Still, I choose to distinguish a diagnosis from a label. A diagnosis offers hope and inspires action. A label seems harsher and static.

I think people are hesitant to accept a mental health diagnosis for a variety of reasons.

(Some of which I talked about earlier this month here here and here)

I found this article about the value of a proper diagnosis in this Psychology Today 2014 article. You can read it here.  

A Word on Wednesday: Stigma

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, 

"No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." 

When we think about Mental Health Awareness, we often hear pleas to stop the stigma. Stop the stain, the blot, the tarnish that is mental illness. 

By definition: The noun, stigma, refers to a mark of disgrace; a stain or reproach as on one's reputation. Medically, this is a mental or physical mark that is characteristic of a defect or disease. 

Mental health care advocates work tirelessly to rid societal-level conditions, cultural norms, and institutional practices that breed stigma. 

It is my experience the most damaging stigma is the internalized stigma. It is our own voice beating us down. We do this, because we believe the lie that having a mental illness is disgraceful. By living that lie, health is denied, and we damage ourselves farther. 

The internalized stigma is often far worse than the actual discrimination or consequences of accepting a mental illness as part of one's overall health condition. 

We don't have to feel this way. We don't have to feel less than. 

  

Giveaway! Good Reads Giveaway! Giveaway!

Today through Wednesday, May 24 

GoodReads Giveaway is underway. 

Because it is Mental Health Month. 

Because I love readers.

Because stories matter. 

THREE! will WIN a signed copy of 

"Stress Fracture: A Memoir of Psychosis." 

Enter here!

A Word on Wednesday: Patient

A Patient

Vulnerable.

Bounced by forces not within;

Left bobbing atop the surface,
Or, dragged mercilessly, gurgling for air.

Patient's first synonym is INVALID. 

This can be interpreted to mean not valid or a person who is not capable. 

Patient's primary synonym is derived from the Latin "invalidus" meaning weak. 

Indeed, the weakness of requiring medical intervention is tangible, frightening. 

Yet, at the same time, becoming a patient is a source of HOPE.  

This is true for mental illness, physical illness, and injury. 

Resting and requesting assistance is a path to recovery.

People with symptoms of mental illness are often reluctant to seek treatment, to accept a diagnosis, and to commit to ongoing therapy. 

However, a patient can just mean a person who is under medical care. In fact, the association of patient as a sufferer or victim is archaic. A patient is just a person undergoing some action. For change to occur, action is needed. Improving health is no exception. A patient can be active while being respectful. A patient can be cooperative to improve outcomes. 

When patient is used as an adjective it is the characterization of a desirable quality. A patient person bears hardship with fortitude and calm and without complaint. With patience one can quietly and steadily persevere.

As one becomes a patient with mental illness and faces the problems associated with unmanageable illness, a dose of patience will go a long way. Often, health improvements are achieved through a series of trial and error. Healing requires time.

As Mental Health Month continues, I bring attention to the concept of becoming a patient patient. Healing does not occur quickly. There are not short cuts. Making a step toward change is a start. Stay the course, patiently.

A Word on Wednesday: Awareness

Awareness is a noun; 

it is the state or condition of being aware; having knowledge; consciousness. 

Its synonym, mindful. 

Its antonym, oblivious. 

For decades, organizations have claimed colors and months to bring awareness to a particular disease or cause. Awareness is so popular; yet, action remains rare. Change is slow. 

Since 1949, Mental Health America and its affiliates across the county have led the observance of May as Mental Health Month by reaching millions of people through the media, local events, and screenings. (Nearly SEVENTY YEARS!) 

For nearly three years, I traveled to university class rooms, church basements, community health fairs, hospital training rooms, libraries, book stores, and homes sharing a single story. My story of a bipolar diagnosis and the hope found only in treatment. I have met thousands of people and attempted to bring awareness.

Yet, each time it is really I who gains awareness. I meet another patient, parent, teacher, doctor, spouse. I see another face with pain-filled eyes looking for meaning and strength. I see resilience. I see collapse. I see despair. I see hope. 

We go to these "awareness" events and hold hands with those who wear the same color ribbon, it is not because we are unaware. It is because we know all to well mental health is gravely misunderstood, grossly underfunded, and largely understaffed. We mourn those who died and offer comfort to the survivors. We know. We are aware. 

As May continues, I will examine additional mental health words including stigma, recovery, patient, and diagnosis. 

A Word on Wednesday: Jettison

Jettison can be used as a noun or a verb.

The action jettison is to cast items overboard to improve stability. A crew jettisons luggage after an emergency is declared as a life-saving measure. In America, this word's primary definition refers to ridding cargo and apparatus on a boat or aircraft.

The verb also can be used to mean throwing off any obstacle or burden. To discard that which holds us back.

Jettison is pronounced as it is spelled. If only the process of ridding one's baggage was as simple as lightening a packed ship about to sink.

A Word on Wednesday: Should

Should is a word I am attempting to BANISH! from my vocabulary. Should sows procrastination. Should breeds dread. Should reeks of judgement.

Should is classified as an auxiliary verb, with meanings including must and ought. Auxiliary verbs are used in forming tenses, moods, and voices of other verbs.

I am unable to bring to mind an instance when should conjures up a positive emotion.

- should go to the car wash

- should write a letter

- should call my dad

- should go to the gym

- should send a query letter

- should make a sales call

- should consolidate my credit cards

- should calm down

- should be happy

- should take a class

- should try a new recipe

However, washing cars and trying new recipes and calling my dad are activities that do bring  happiness. Adding the verb should elicits the feeling of something unpleasant. It implies that whatever is being done in the present moment is "less than" or "not enough."

Should also implies indecision. It fosters crippling self doubt. As I work to eliminate should from self talk and how I talk to others, I am reminded of my mother's familiar summertime refrain: 

IN or OUT!

My mom did not say, you should be either in or out. No she commanded I decide; I wasn't born in a barn after all.

As I work to rid should from my vernacular, I work to trust myself and stand by. I will decide to accept or decline, to do or don't, and to follow through or move on. 

A Word on Wednesday: Bliss

American mythologist Joseph Cambell (1904-1987) has this to say about bliss: 

"When you follow your bliss  ... doors will open where you would not have thought there would be doors and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else." 

The cynic will dismiss bliss, mocking the pursuit of such lavish joy. Yet, one should be careful to not confuse the word bliss with over-the-top false happiness. Bliss is not found in drunkenness or loudness or mockery. 

Rather bliss is found in sincerity and authenticity. Bliss is the freedom from hypocrisy and deceit. Bliss is found in the commitment to genuineness. 

Its definition of supreme happiness or utter joy or contentment has ties to theology's joy of heaven and a bliss eternal. 

In the secular use of the word, I dare to remain courageously, selfishly in pursuit of bliss. 

A Word on Wednesday: Heliotropic

Heliotropic: 

Turning or growing toward the light. Heliotropism can be easily seen in sunflowers, which slowly turn their large flowers so that they continually face the sun. However, the adjective heliotropic can describe any noun and any light source.

A heliotropic student turns toward 

the light of knowledge.

A heliotropic flower turns toward 

the light of the sun.

Plants classified as heliotropes have flowers and leaves, which turn toward the sun. Marigolds, poppies, sunflowers, and daisies are examples of heliotropes.

Daisies are commonplace both as a wildflower and in the beds of intentional gardeners. The daisy’s hardy character survives perennially. Many a season of indecision has been soothed by pulling petal by petal — loves me, loves me not. I consider the daisy to be my favorite flower. Despite it’s simple, common presence, it stands out to me.  Perhaps, it was the daisy that really picked me to guide me in moving to the light.

There is grace when one can turn to face the light and absorb its radiance. Like the daisy, I long to move toward the lights of inspiration, the lights of my life, and the light offered each dawn.

Turning to the light, and thereby from darkness or shadows is not a new bright idea. The phenomenon of heliotropism was known by the Ancient Greeks, demonstrated with the word heliotropium, meaning sun turn.  

As spring builds momentum, I am again reminded to turn to light, to chart with optimism, to navigate with intention to the moving source of good. 

A word: Onward

You will not find "onward" on a compass rose. 

No one is sure where it goes.

Yet. I. Find. Tomorrow. Each. Time. I. Move. In. Its. Direction. 

Onward  

--is often, and always -- 

The Only Way To Go

A Word on Wednesday: Hope

 The abstract hope cannot be illustrated beyond the four letters it contains.

Hope, when used as a verb, is seemingly without action. We cannot see someone hoping. Hope doesn't sound like much more than "wishful thinking," which cannot be measured or observed.

The expression, "all we can do now is hope," marks this action as one of last resort. When all efforts to control a situation fail, only hope remains, until even that is sometimes lost.

What if we started with hope?

As a noun hope is confidence in the future. The word's actual synonyms include courage, optimism, expectation. Its opposite is despair.

In contrast, a wish is more of request or a bid, and dreams are imaginings or visions. Likewise, to want is to yearn. Hope, though, steadfastly remains a reasonable assurance, just as it was at its origin in Old English, c.1200.

Hope, then, becomes the action of the strong and resilient. In silent elegance, one can hope with just a breath.

I close with these words from John Lennon, "Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end." 

A Word on Wednesday: Suffer

Using the verb suffer with an object is one of my word choice pet peeves. The culprit is the acceptable definition  No. 5: "to undergo, be subjected to, or endure (pain, distress, injury, or anything unpleasantness).

Consider when the object of the sentence is an illness:

She suffers from diabetes.

He suffers from cancer. 

I suffer from bipolar disorder.

Now consider the same idea told with a different action verb. The subject of the sentence sounds stronger in every instance.

She manages her diabetes. 

He lives with cancer.

I treat my bipolar disorder. 

I blame well-meaning writing coaches for campaigning against the use of passive language. We are taught the following statements are weak.

She has diabetes.

He has cancer.

I have bipolar disorder. 

So rather than clearly and objectively stating a condition, writers are supposed to replace the passive "has" with an active verb. Suffer, then, does the trick; it is dramatic.  

The word itself is pronounced with a softness, a weakness, a helplessness: [suhf-er]. It does not sound tough. When one defines her reality as suffering, it reinforces a victim mentality. Perhaps a person faces disease, compensates for disability, accepts illness, embraces challenge. Perhaps the pain associated with the disease is manageable.





Recently, I read "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running," by Haruki Murakami and the following line gave me pause. I tossed it back and forth in my mind.

"Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional."

I find Murakami's observation logical and true. I also find it comforting. It encourages one to accept the pain and face it.

When we talk about having an illness "suffering is optional."

The word I would use instead of suffer is one of graceful strength.

Endure.

One can endure the pain, weather the storm, and carry on.