A Word on Wednesday: Unburdening

There is work to be done, new ideas to be learned, and for that the problems of yesterday and the fears for tomorrow must be put out of the way.

By unburdening, we do now allow burdens to continue. Unburdening sighs out the heavy. 

It is freeing to relieve one's mind or body of a burden. Unburdening can take the form of revealing, confessing, casting off, getting rid of, or disclosing something.




In all instances, unburdening makes room, makes lighter. Unburdening, at its heart, is an active verb.

A Picture with Words: Bird Prom

grace, symmetry, harmony, pairing, flight, 

individuals, together, formation, dance,

Photoshop. 

This picture was take with permission from Pixa Bay, which offers "stunning free pictures." 

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: 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: Worry

People warn not to worry, yet concerns continue and mount without seeming end. These concerns amass to draw attention. If one is careless, the attention becomes worry. 

To worry is to torment oneself with disturbing thoughts; to torment with cares, anxieties. To worry is to trouble or plague. 

It is likely true, then, that no good can come from worry. Worried sick and sick with worry result. 

Consider, then, worry's antonyms -- comfort, reassure, and trust. Also, if you get tired of worrying, you can always find some work to do. 

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: 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: 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 on Wednesday: Will

Today's post is about the word will when used as an auxiliary verb. An auxiliary verb is used in forming tenses, moods, and voices of other verbs. Will moves an action to the future.

After we collectively counted down the last minutes of 2016, we embarked on 2017 with its promise of 365 unwritten days.

With articulated resolutions told with varying conviction, we believed in the power of positive change. Resolutions are by definition set in the future: will lose weight, will quit smoking, will go back to school, will ask for a promotion, will pay down my debt, will attend more concerts, will make a new friend, will read twelve books, or will finish writing that novel.


A friend, who died last month at the age of 39, often repeated this common sentiment:
"There are only two days that nothing can be done. One is yesterday. The other is tomorrow."

I have come to loath the word will  in both my writing and my thoughts. No longer do I have the luxury of ignorance of immortality. There is no time to will. There is no value in saying "I will write tomorrow." or "I will hug my loved ones tomorrow."


The helping verb will is dependent on assumptions. The assumption of a future. The assumption of a second chance. The assumption of endless mortal days.

I challenge myself to learn from literature. I challenge myself to avoid wishful thinking. I challenge myself to avoid will my action verbs to an uncertain future.

I act today with purpose. I postpone only the least important items. Laundry may never be complete. My floors may never be those to eat upon.

Yet, I promise to eradicate the helping verb will from my vernacular. I promise to live today.

I also vow to avoid the helping verb will in my poetry and prose. Few novels are written in future tense. (If you can think of one, please let me know.)

*Note: I know not why this friend was called early and I was given more days on earth. I miss her. Her mantra was "Loving Living Life 2Day."

Live well my friends. Live well.