So she didn't

So much advice about writing urges routine, persistence and 'turning up'. No advice says what to do when the rest of life takes over, other than getting up at 4am to make more time to write. If that's what it takes, it makes you wonder if you really are a writer.

Lately, I've had to concentrate on sleeping when I can, especially at 4am. So, not much writing, but I believe I can. 

Bonus for you: you can also rest!

Source

Nervous - not writing

So, I'm feeling a bit nervous right now. Probably from #2 and #3, but not from #1 unfortunately. About that I'm feeling torn. 

But there are times in life when you can't do what you most want to do.

Source

Language - falling off the bars

Source

By now, you can no doubt tell a bit about what I like from the topics I write about.

I love words. I relish language. I eat metaphors for breakfast. And I believe you can never have enough cartoons.

So, instead of the regular post, I bring you a state of Wordly Explorations - with words, language, metaphor and cartoon.

This toon by SMCB is one of my favourites. It says everything I've tried to say in my thousands of words, ridiculously long posts and endless series. Only considerably more nimbly and gracefully, which is appropriate given the content of the cartoon.

As SMBC says, 'Language is like gymnastics' (simile, sure, not metaphor, but good enough when you're pressed for time) works for the conflicting prescriptivist, descriptivist and pragmatist perspectives. That's a simile doing overtime!

Language is like gymnastics. There are rules and standards and those who fail to follow them should be chastised.

Language is like gymnastics! There are lots of forms and none is preferable to any other.

Language is like gymnastic. There isn't a best gymnastics, but most of you are really, really shitty at gymnastics.

I agree with all that, but today I have a different take. Let's call it the language 'performativist' perspective.

Language is like gymnastics. There's performance anxiety; there's pain and sometimes injury in the process of nailing the 'position' you are working on. 

It's hard to focus on your goal on the parallel bars, when you can't even get to the gym due to everything else happening in your life. The coach yells at you about discipline and dedication, but gymnastics is not the only thing in your life. It's not dedication you lack, but days with more than 24 hours!

Sometimes, despite trying your best, you just lose your grip, miss the bar, and you don't get a post written. 

Source: Laura Sweet

Your eyes go wide, you feel fear as you realise what is about to happen, then you fall down hard on your backside.

You get up, and things are still okay.

And you take another run up and hope you'll get it next time.

Research - in praise of the prefix 're-'

Along with widespread distrust in authority, experts and professionals, we see the very common suggestion (or sometimes taunt) online to ‘do your own research’.

I know several people who have 'done their own research' - spending three or four years of their lives working extremely hard on a specific question to earn a PhD. Having watched just how difficult it is, and how they had to put the rest of their life on hold, I don't really want to 'do my own research'.

So, why is it so commonly suggested? And why is it so often accompanied by poor spelling and insults?

Unless… perhaps they don't really mean 'research.'

Tea - with sympathetic adjectives

Tea is the most consumed drink in the world after water.

It's my preferred beverage. Each day, I have about 6 of the estimated 18–20 billion cups of tea consumed around the world. My personal motto is if in doubt, make tea.

From the 1800s, Australians adopted the British penchant for a cup of tea for all occasions and the philosophy that a cup of tea can make things better, at least while you are sipping the steaming brew. (The recent Australian trend to adopt American habits means that coffee has taken over as number one hot beverage, but it sadly lacks any equivalent philosophy. This 2016 poll found the most common drinks in Australia are water, milk, hot coffee, and then tea.)

Tea is so much a part of our days that it turns up in various sayings, and much has been written about how to make tea properly. 

I’ve noticed something else while recently experiencing a series of minor problems escalating to a natural disaster. The adjectives we use to describe a cup of tea hold a secret code for human connection and sympathy.

The @ sign - my symbolic resistance

By guest explorer: Fred Shivvin

Language is dynamic and constantly changing, that is what makes it powerful.

 

But when our language changes - the word meaning, the punctuation, grammar, usage rules, spelling, and more - we often don't like it. Many of us resist many of these changes, and some sticklers never give in.

But for most of us, slowly, gradually, insidiously, the unwelcome changes slip into how we talk and write. The shift happens without our awareness, until one day we find ourselves using the word form, sentence structure, punctuation, etc., that we had resisted in the past.

We don't often recognise our shift to acceptance, we don't remember how long we resisted, we don't often even notice we've stopped fighting language change. And if we do, we might shrug an acknowledgment, and then get on with life and language.

But there's one change I resisted for exactly 27 years and 9 months. Until last week, to be precise.

Cynical - the easy way out

It's that time again in Australia - the time we're not officially in an election but, yeah, we sure are in an election. We can tell by the politicians' behaviour: the clearing of decks, the salves to lobby groups, the announcements, the special funds for 'special' electorates. 

One of the words I hear a lot around election time is cynical. We're told the 'voters are cynical' and wary of political promises, but equally we hear that some politicians undertake actions as 'cynical attempts to win votes'. And we turn off. 

That makes me wonder: where does cynicism reside? 

Is it in me - in the way I interpret other people's behaviour as negative? Or is it in other people - in the way they think they can treat me, can buy me off? If I describe a politician's actions as cynical, just who is the cynic? Is it a type of judgement or is it a more general 'lens' through which a person sees the world? 

Welcome to the first Wordly Explorations for 2022. I will return to truth soon, but the universe keeps flinging things at me that don't allow much writing time, and not enough for a challenging topic like truth.