Words are wonderful. We need them to get the huge things in our minds out onto small things like paper. I like paper, too, and pencils and other small things that capture huge things.
Yes, I like all words. Even words that tell of bad things, like “tornado” —what an amazing word that is, rolling around in the mouth before it can get out, reminding of tortuous torment and torture—a perfect word!
I like teensy words that tell of teensy things. Think of “chick“. The shortest short vowel with that clipped /k/ ending. So perfect . . . .
I like open-ended words that can change in meaning according to how we say them. Take “no“ for example. Short and sweet and full of amazing meaning. When stated with strength it imparts an imperativeness that communicates authority and a sort of “final answer” fortress.
When screamed by a female voice, “NO-O-O-O-O!” it causes adrenaline to course through the veins of every hearer.
Great word!
Or consider that little scamp of a word: “if”. Heh heh.
Yes, I like all words.
They told me I have to pick out only one, though. January beckons and the new rage is to pick a word, any word, that will get its picker through the next year.
I don’t really like this new game. It reminds me of celebrity adoption. Everyone’s got a new word they never had before, one that will become a source of some amazement. Almost braggy, and about what?
I picked a word?
Actually, I’m thinking about how all the other really wonderful words are feeling left out, about now, since they do not express grand character traits or describe a multitude of to-do lists in one syllable. “Weed.” One word, one sentence, conveying broken fingernails, aching back, burnt shoulders, frozen knee joints, and another go for tomorrow.
Gives me goose bumps to think of it.
No, I don’t really believe in all this word picking.
So it’s really embarrassing for me to realize words are coming to me.
It’s not like when I’m writing. When I’m writing, and often when I’m not, words sort of float by my consciousness for the fun of it, for me to consider, a bit like a marquee sign I can mentally click on, any time I choose, and have fun considering derivations, true meanings, possible alternate spellings, misuses, etc.
It’s how I breathe.
No, this is more like when a bird flies over and leaves a calling card on your nose.
I’ve gotten a word.
Nuts. Didn’t want one. Sighs.
This happened last year and I actually liked the word and had fun proclaiming it throughout the land. Everyone was picking grandiose words of achievement, direction, authority, etc.; making me tired just to think of all the things everyone else would be doing during 2014. And I really am pretty sure I “got” a word, that it landed on me from the sky, and I liked it.
It was: “less”.
And I loved it and I actually achieved it. Perfect. I blogged less, shopped less, argued less—all the things that wore me out were just “less” and I think it did me a lot of good. I became contemplative, thankful, and rested.
I even ate less. Yay.
And really, a year of it was a little much. I mean, I dusted less. So you can imagine.
However, 2015 approaches and no one else is tired of the game, yet. We’re still passing this football around. She sighs. Okay. I have to admit it, here:
I got another word.
I did not want another word.
But it gets worse than that.
I think I got two. Nuts.
You see, while I was at a retreat this past September, there was this sort of river of blue fabric from which we could pick (as if it were a real river) a rock (an actual rock) to take home. On the bottom of the rock was painted a word. The word was supposed to be from God to give me direction or bless me or something, and as you can figure, I didn’t want one. So I sort of sneaked around during the word-picking section of the session and escaped.
Felt pretty victorious about it. And relieved.
However, as we were cleaning up after the conference, I got cornered.
And here, I have to explain that I was helping with cleaning it up, because I was on the team that arranged and produced the conference, and in all honesty I must admit: I was the one who introduced the great idea of the river of blue fabric with rocks with words painted on their little bottoms. I learned it from a Canadian friend who has written a beautiful book that includes much more information about this whole river idea, and I sort of blame her a tiny bit for my whole predicament, that day. (Just kidding, Bobbie!) 😉
Anyway, my co-host for the conference did not let me get away with my escape plan. She graciously allowed me to choose a rock from the box where she was packing them. So, from a box of rocks, which itself was partly my idea, with my own two hands, I deliberately chose a word.
And it was puzzling.
This word did not seem like a long to-do list.
It was: Noble.
Huh. Like sitting on a throne?
My ecstatic friend, however (She really is a good friend) claimed it fit me perfectly and went on to quote Solomon about The Noble Wife.
Oh. Proverbs 31. It is a lo-o-ong to-do list. Nuts.
Because of my puzzled look, probably, my friend went on to give examples of how that word fit me absolutely perfectly.
I kept thinking, That was last year! This is still the year of LESS!
The more I thought of it, though (pretty varnished rock, truly a beauty, wanted to display it . . . ) the more I realized I could shape up a bit. Like make the bed in the morning? Get rid of the really ratty pj’s? Clear out the kitchen countertop? Dust?
Yeah, I could do it.
So it was with great ease that I planned to breeze my noble little self through all this word-picking business and arrive at the head of the pack because I’d had a three-month head start.
Competitive? Maybe a little bit?
Adopt-a-word was beginning to get to me.
Then I sort of forgot about the word. Then I sorta got a calling card.
A word.
It kept floating past on the marquee sign in my head, like a broken program somewhere was causing the marquee to display the same word quite often.
Too often.
“Organize”.
I began to consider it and to wonder. Okay. I could do that. I need to do that. Organize.
At least I have “less” stuff to organize these days.
Soon, I couldn’t wait to spread the good news abroad: I’ve given birth to a new word! Well, through adoption, that is. It’s a great word. Overused, but really productive-sounding and totally speaking of lo-o-ong to-do lists!
I was planning. A to-do list was forming.
So, finally, yesterday, the call went out: Announce Your Word! Link up! Share! Proclaim!
One word.
One. To inspire me as I walk through 2015. To guide my ways and make me a better person.
So how do I explain I have two?
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Now my feet are big. Hmph. I have that firmer foundation, now. Along with it have come larger ears and a longer nose. They never stop growing, either.
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