The There There Letter: Languidity, Literality, and Limpidity
Three things from DAH.
(Yes, I'm back to "L" rather quickly)
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I pen, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, Languidity …
Not really a word, I know. But I like having three ity endings for the words this week. So, "Languidity." I now know that's the name for what ails me. Thanks to the NYT Cooking e-newsletter (as unlikely as that seems) I found my way to a recent New York Times piece explaining that I (and many others) are Languishing during the current pandemic. I'm not hopeless. I don't lack energy. But I'm not thriving. Pandemic Languishing is apparently more common for extroverts -- we've no way to recharge by plugging in with groups of other people in person. Fortunately, a cure for Languishing is finding something upon which to focus, to get into flow to avoid the sense of blah-purposelessness. Journaling could help (as it seemingly helps with everything else). Planning something to look forward to is good. A trip, perhaps? I love my home, but I'm here quite a lot, usually with three jolly dogs. If not for their constant presence, I'd have gone nuts months ago.
People Are 'Languishing' as the COVID-19 Pandemic Continues -- Here's What That Means
Second up this week, Literality …
Merriam-Webster suggests this literal definition of literal: "free from exaggeration or embellishment." I have a few friends who seem to have literal, detailed memories. Exactly who ate what and why decades ago, for example. I grew up believing in (and wishing I had) this "archival model of memory -- the idea, dominant for much of the twentieth century, that our memories exist in some sort of mental library, as literal representations of past events" (The New Yorker, April 5, 2021). In that New Yorker piece I read about Elizabeth Loftus and the malleable memory concept she espouses (Loftus is a professor at the University of California, Irvine). Loftus suggests that memory "is not fixed and immutable, not a place way back there that is preserved in stone, but a living thing that changes shape, expands, shrinks, and expands again." There's only a "flimsy curtain that separates our imagination and our memory." This approach to memory -- that it isn't literal at all -- is more closely aligned with my personal experience. Loftus, however, is burdened by controversy in our #MeToo era that's so troubled by conflicting recollection of events. I won't wade into those disturbed waters. In my own life, if I'm seeking the literal, I'll look for memories corroborated by some contemporaneous journaling rather than hopefully-literal recall by myself or others.
Literally – the much misused word of the moment
Third up this week, Limpidity …
There was a time when limpidity was a hallmark of quality in wine and beer. A limpid beverage was bright and clear, often the product of amazing modern technology. Today, however, cloudy (literally not limpid) beverages are often considered more honest and real. How confusing! At some times and in some circumstances limpid clarity is a virtue. In other situations it is signal of some artifice or interference, the horsing-up of some natural process. This strikes me as quibbling. The natural process of pretty much everything is decay. We choose spots along the way to suspend decay and take pleasure (drinking wine before it's turned to vinegar, for example). I can appreciate both clear and cloudy, in drinking and thinking. My personal preferences are for simplicity and clarity except when flights of whimsy feel more fun. Situational limpidity or opacity? I don't really care. They're both me.
(Yes, I'm back to "L" rather quickly)
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. I pen, promote, and make change (not the coin kind).
First up this week, Languidity …
Not really a word, I know. But I like having three ity endings for the words this week. So, "Languidity." I now know that's the name for what ails me. Thanks to the NYT Cooking e-newsletter (as unlikely as that seems) I found my way to a recent New York Times piece explaining that I (and many others) are Languishing during the current pandemic. I'm not hopeless. I don't lack energy. But I'm not thriving. Pandemic Languishing is apparently more common for extroverts -- we've no way to recharge by plugging in with groups of other people in person. Fortunately, a cure for Languishing is finding something upon which to focus, to get into flow to avoid the sense of blah-purposelessness. Journaling could help (as it seemingly helps with everything else). Planning something to look forward to is good. A trip, perhaps? I love my home, but I'm here quite a lot, usually with three jolly dogs. If not for their constant presence, I'd have gone nuts months ago.
People Are 'Languishing' as the COVID-19 Pandemic Continues -- Here's What That Means
Second up this week, Literality …
Merriam-Webster suggests this literal definition of literal: "free from exaggeration or embellishment." I have a few friends who seem to have literal, detailed memories. Exactly who ate what and why decades ago, for example. I grew up believing in (and wishing I had) this "archival model of memory -- the idea, dominant for much of the twentieth century, that our memories exist in some sort of mental library, as literal representations of past events" (The New Yorker, April 5, 2021). In that New Yorker piece I read about Elizabeth Loftus and the malleable memory concept she espouses (Loftus is a professor at the University of California, Irvine). Loftus suggests that memory "is not fixed and immutable, not a place way back there that is preserved in stone, but a living thing that changes shape, expands, shrinks, and expands again." There's only a "flimsy curtain that separates our imagination and our memory." This approach to memory -- that it isn't literal at all -- is more closely aligned with my personal experience. Loftus, however, is burdened by controversy in our #MeToo era that's so troubled by conflicting recollection of events. I won't wade into those disturbed waters. In my own life, if I'm seeking the literal, I'll look for memories corroborated by some contemporaneous journaling rather than hopefully-literal recall by myself or others.
Literally – the much misused word of the moment
Third up this week, Limpidity …
There was a time when limpidity was a hallmark of quality in wine and beer. A limpid beverage was bright and clear, often the product of amazing modern technology. Today, however, cloudy (literally not limpid) beverages are often considered more honest and real. How confusing! At some times and in some circumstances limpid clarity is a virtue. In other situations it is signal of some artifice or interference, the horsing-up of some natural process. This strikes me as quibbling. The natural process of pretty much everything is decay. We choose spots along the way to suspend decay and take pleasure (drinking wine before it's turned to vinegar, for example). I can appreciate both clear and cloudy, in drinking and thinking. My personal preferences are for simplicity and clarity except when flights of whimsy feel more fun. Situational limpidity or opacity? I don't really care. They're both me.
The Power of Simplicity, Clarity, and Action
And a bit more, from a favorite poet.
Simplicity, by Emily Dickinson
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.
And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem "Sometimes" …
And a bit more, from a favorite poet.
Simplicity, by Emily Dickinson
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.
And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver’s poem "Sometimes" …
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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