Playing with language

I may have mentioned before that word recall is not my forte.  Despite this, I love playing with language.  Games to play with a set of words that have fallen on my lap present themselves without warning, and often without reason either.

The rules usually develop as I go along, incorporating the use of homophones, metaphor, double entendre, or whatever else strikes my fancy.  Unless I happen to be in the right company, they often only make sense to me.

Whenever I dust off these two sentences, for example:

“Oh dear, you have stolen my heart.”

“Oh deer, you have stolen my hart.”

Christian just shakes his head.  The first few years of our relationship, I was convinced that explaining the rules of the game that led to their creation would help him understand why they please me.

No such luck.

….

Years ago, my best friend and I were discussing words with strong connotations that have, for the most part, taken over the word’s original definitions.  I remember we had lots of fun with this.  Here is one of the results:

“We won!  We won!” the quarterback ejaculated during the half time show.

“Now, don’t you think that’s a little premature?” chastised his coach.

(You’re allowed to groan if you need to.)

So, how about you?  Do you juggle with jargon?  Do you mess with meaning?  If you find yourself creating clever clauses that amuse yourself (and perhaps no one else), please share them with me.  Better yet, invite me to play along.

 

 

 

Keeping our brain in shape? Maybe.

Enjoying ourselves?  Absolutely.

Sometime back I bought Brain Age, a game for the Nintendo DS Lite that positions itself as a brain workout.  It’s fun.  On occasion, as you make your way through “brain stimulating” exercises, Dr. Kawashima (pictured on the left) pops up to provide you with helpful tips regarding your brain’s health.

According to the cartoon Kawashima, reading aloud is a great way for adults to stimulate their brain. 

Which is a really long-winded way to introduce the fact that Christian and I make a point of reading to each other.  Not religiously or anything -- sometimes we forget, sometimes our schedules conflict, and sometimes we just don’t feel like it.  But there are times that we really get into it.

Like now, for example. We have been reading The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency and I am loving it.  This is the first time I can recall asking someone reading to me to “rewind!”  so I can let that part of the story wash over me again.

Yes, it’s that good.

I find the characters and the things they do and say compelling.  And sharing this experience with someone special is a real treat.  So, even if it turns out that this cartoon doctor is a quack, I’m going to stick with this program.

Our storytelling nature

Often, when you ask someone for a story, they will insist they have no stories to tell.  But if you tell them a story -- and it can pretty much be of just about anything, you will almost as often get an interesting "that reminds me of ..." story in response. Seriously, it's like uncorking a bottle. 

This evening, I sat with a group of young women as they shifted from “I can’t think of a single thing to share” to “Well, there was this time …”

I have always enjoyed observing this.  But sometimes I forget just how much I enjoy being part of it.  There is something compelling about listening stories out of a person, and even better, helping that person reconnect to their innate storytelling nature in the process.

 

Cheers!

 

Sometimes you lead and sometimes you follow

Have you ever watched sand pipers on the shore? They're cute as all heck with their skinny little legs and funny little run. And they don't stop! They run toward the ocean as the tide ebbs and away from the ocean the tide flows. Over and over. Cute and relentless.



Sometimes, I like to imagine that it's not just the sand piper doing all that work to remain consistently close to the ocean. What if, just as the sand piper runs toward the ocean when the tide begins to pull away, the ocean flows toward the sand piper whenever the little beach runner begins to retreat?

I enjoy this image, it reminds me of friendship. It may often be a playful game of chase. But other times, one may follow the other offering support, "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?" (Perhaps in some of those cases, one may keep near in stealth mode since their companion may actually need some time alone.)

Boisterous or somber, it's a kind of call and response. "Psst, friend, I am here". "Ah, yes. And I am here too".

Something to Carry in Your Pocket

In sixth grade, I had a theatre arts teacher named Mrs. Stuart. I wasn't crazy about her -- she had a nasally sharp voice, seemed a bit snooty, and didn't seem that crazy about me. I remember her first name, Sue, because it turned out to be appropriate; It seemed that anytime a kid accidentally bumped into her she would scold them "You could have really hurt me. I could sue you, you know."

Despite this, Sue managed to teach me something I consider pretty darned useful. My guess would be that she had no idea I would take what she taught me and use it the way I do. I'm pretty sure she'd be even more surprised to learn that I regularly think about her, with gratitude, as a result of this little something I carry around in my pocket.

To someone who is 11 or 12, everyone over 20 looks ancient. Given that my memories of that time were filmed using 'tween lenses, I can't really say for certain how old Sue was. It's very likely she was around the age I am now. In honor of this, I'd like to share. Kudos to Mrs. Stuart, by the way.
-----

Our class was set on the cafeteria/auditorium stage; our cue was the bell and we made our entrance through the black curtains, upstage right. The setup was minimalist -- three fold out tables and a number of fold out chairs gathered around them set the scene.

To be honest, I remember little else about the class in general. Instead, almost all of my memory revolves around the time that Mrs. Stuart taught us about method acting. I don't think that's what she called it, but based on what I know now I would say she was teaching us what's referred to as "emotional recall".

She asked for a few volunteers and, after asking them to act sad, demonstrated how sad really looked. She then went on to explain what she was doing. In essence, she was recalling a time when she genuinely felt the emotions she was trying to portray, then letting those feelings charge up her portrayal.

The lesson over, each student returned to their folding chair to work on a class assignment -- sadness. We were to think of times in our lives that we were very, very sad. Looking around at all the furrows and frowns, I could see we were getting somewhere. In fact, after reaping my short life's collection of sorrowful woes, I found I could bring myself close to tears with little effort. Then came our next assignment -- happiness. Again, after hand picking some choice funny moments, I found I could easily bring myself to a grin, a smile, or even to laughter.

She gathered us once more to review what we had just learned. As she described what a powerful tool this was and explained how it could be used to infuse our acting with the emotions of our choice, I had an "Aha!" moment.

Why not use it to infuse our everyday lives with happiness?

At that moment, I committed to collecting positive memories and storing them in my pocket for easy retrieval. It worked! Whenever some negative thought had its grip on me, I could shake it loose by dusting off of my pocket collection. At first I started with funny memories, but over time expanded to include happy, proud, grateful, competent, loved... anything that might help remind me out of whatever dark corner I might find myself in.

If you've ever experienced the dark of a power outage, you know how much easier it is to make your way around if you have access to some sort of light source. The same goes for life's dark places.

Take this second to place a happy memory in your pocket. And, when you're done, practice fishing that happiness out of your pocket and using it. Guess what? Now you have a little flashlight.

Checkbook oops

When I left home for college, my parents set me up with a checking account and an American Express charge card. The understanding was that, even though they might send me money on occasion, I would be solely responsible for the two accounts.

Responsible. What a loaded word.

Many of my friends were on the same boat, but they seemed more savvy. Instead of keeping tally on their checkbook, they called their automated teller whenever they wanted to know their balance. I considered adopting this practice until I realized the balance reported was sometimes inaccurate; There was no way for the automated teller to know that a check had been written if it hadn't yet cleared.

While I was busy feeling proud of myself for avoiding this possible disaster, I walked right into another.

Expenses I paid for with my American Express card didn't seem real. Although I kept track of ATM withdrawals and checks written against my account, I didn't pay much attention to the American Express charges I incurred. According to the American Express website: "Unlike Debit and Credit Cards, with an American Express Charge Card you can enjoy no pre-set spending limit and you must repay your full balance at the end of each month giving you total control over your expenses."

No spending limit
+ full balance due at month end
college student without the funds to foot the bill

In my desperation, I found a loophole. My American Express for students card allowed me to defer travel expenses, interest free. That is, the card acted like a miniature loan for travel expenses and a charge card for everything else. Problem solved! The money my parents sent me for buying plane tickets home went directly to paying off my over-budget spending.

This was great! For the next couple of years I overspent, conveniently by about the same amount my parents were sending in plane ticket money. I didn't give much thought to this growing travel debt. So, by the time I accumulated enough curiosity to check the card balance, I was in for a shocker -- it was over $1500. What had I been thinking?

Reality set in around then. By upping my hours at my part-time job during the remainder of that school year, curbing my spending, and saving as much as I could during the following summer internship I was able to eliminate that debt.

Determined to not play the fool twice, I changed the way I balanced my check book. Instead of only keeping track of direct expenses, I began to also keep track of "virtual" expenses.

Description	Real Balance	Virtual Balance
Starting balance	$1000.00	$1000.00
ATM withdrawal	-$40.00	-$40.00
Remaining balance	$960.00	$960.00
LANES membership (Amex)	$0	-$55.00
Remaining balance	$960.00	$905.00

The virtual balance, depicted above, is what I learned to live by. It let me know how much of my "real balance" was available for spending. In other words, even though my "real balance" was $960, if I spent $55 on my card that I had to pay off at the end of the month, $55 of my "real balance" was off limits as it was reserved for that purpose.

Although my checkbook habits have evolved since then, I still live by a virtual balance and recommend it heartily. I believe it's played a major role in steering me clear from debt. Thank goodness for my first checkbook oops -- It led to one of the best lessons I learned in college.

I save like my father

I don't believe my father ever formally sat me down to tell me his thoughts about how to manage one's finances. But, based on what I saw and stories I was told, this is what I gather to be my father's approach to saving:

• Always pay yourself
  
• Pay yourself first
• What you pay yourself should never decrease

When my oldest sister was born, my father sat down with my mother to discuss a plan he had. He would like to set aside a certain amount in CDs every month, just for my sister. My mother agreed it was a great idea, but when it came to his suggestion regarding how much to set aside, she reminded him of their intention to have additional children; Whatever amount they agreed on had to be an amount they could, with certainty, set aside for each child. Being reminded of himself, my father modified his recommendation and they started with 1/2 his original proposal.

My approach to saving is firmly founded on my father's principles. My first paycheck out of college was dissected into two parts -- the part I would spend and the part I would save. But, as eager as I was to save, I made sure to pick a conservative savings target. I knew that if I went overboard with "savings", I may end up dipping into it for bare necessities which would only blur the line between the two parts of my paycheck. Besides, it was important to me that my savings rate be maintainable and have only an upward trajectory.

I'm not sure why this was important to me. Perhaps it's because I grew up thinking it's a smart thing to do. Or because I tend to associate financial stability and independence with personal freedom. Either way, I like that it's at least one tangible way of incorporating my dad into my every day life.