What does one write about when one is compelled to do so but with no obvious impetus with which to create something of a note? I am sure there is a word for this but it escapes me.
I vainly attempt to learn something new every day and I usually achieve this by reviewing a new word and absorbing its uniqueness to the best of my ability. I receive my words through technology via numerous website apps; Dictionary, Thesaurus or my Word a Day subscription. Of course there are other avenues of attaining tidbits of ambiguous knowledge through media sources and by far, reading extensively, be it books or magazines. I also read a lot of old poetry that is impregnated with arcane and unusual words, words that are reflected in my writing.
For instance; I was recently introduced to the word “deasil“, which means “in a clockwise direction” or “right-handedness “and it’s Old Scottish Gaelic. This iota of knowledge led me to “widdershins” which means the exact opposite: counterclockwise, left-handedness or just the wrong darn direction. It’s Old German in origin
Another word this week or last was “hyperborean” which grabbed my attention for some unbeknownst reason. Its definition is”an inhabitant of the extreme north” In mythology they were a people living in perpetual sunshine, far beyond the reaches of the north wind.
New words are curiosities to be explored, they grab me and insist I inquire and of course, give me a great deal of pleasure. I would challenge all of you to contemplate whether you learn something new or just exist from day to day in the mundane routine of existence. Another word, “mores” itched my attention. I could have used (caught my attention) but isn’t "itched", "scratched" or "tickled" better?
"Mores” is a word used to describe the “fundamental moral view of a group or of a people.” One might reckon that this whole discourse is “epigrammatic” or to say, terse and ingenious in expression, but then again, what is an epigram? Please look it up and smile, knowing you attained some new tidbit of knowledge!
I was reading my World Archaeology Magazine and I read the term "trending toward animus” I had no idea what animus meant other than a perceived incorrect reference to animals.
Animus: Noun, (1) A strong dislike or enmity; hostile attitude
(2) Purpose or intention.
(3) The masculine principal, especially as present in women.
What is this? What were they talking about? The male in the female or were they talking about testosterone or the so called masculine essence (libido) or dike-ness in females. I investigated and found animas.
Animas; Noun, (1) the soul; Life.
(2) The inner personality that is turned toward the unconscious of the individual. (I am still chewing on this Freudian innuendo) I am slow sometimes and I will have to think about the above concept for a while.
(3) The feminine principal, especially as present in men. (Here we go again!) Is this estrogen in males or a sub-level feminine attribute? Might this be the gay thing in men?
Am I the only person that prattles and blathers about like this or is it just me being retired with too much time on my hands. I have always enjoyed crossword puzzles and testing my knowledge. I love non-coherent tidbits of knowledge for no other reason than knowing that I know them (I often play Jeopardy while watching it on TV.) I am often surprised at what I do know yet I am bothered and irritated when I can’t recall a name. I like challenges and I am inquisitive. I just built and installed myself a flagpole in my front yard and the concepts of a small pool and fountain are forming in the back of my brain.
I have the seed of a new poem blooming and have started composing it. My yard work and flowers are always at hand. One must never be idle is my guiding principal. Sometimes one must be still and be observant as I plop myself down in a lawn chair with a beer and observe my Purple Martins in their clamorous ensemble. “Be Still and Know That I Am God” I am truly blessed, I am rich, I have need of nothing!
I have been tardy publishing this post because I thought it lack luster in content or worthiness. I was reading a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson, called “Ulysses” and it was lengthy so I will just use exerts and paraphrase it somewhat to adapt it to my purpose of stressing a work ethic.
It little profits an idle man,You know not me,
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink life to the lees.
I am become a name; for always roaming
With a hungry heart.
Much I have seen and known
And drunk the delight of battle with my peers.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch where through
Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life! Life piled on life!
Were all too little, and of one to me.
Little remains but every hour is saved
From the eternal silence, something more
A bringer of new things
This gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought
Well loved by me, discerning to fulfill
This labor, by slow prudence, to make mild
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good
Old age has yet his honor and his toil
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, yet may be done
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep moans,
Come my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off; for my purpose holds,
To sail beyond the sunset,Of all the western stars, until I die.
Though much is taken, much abides;
We are not that strength which in old days,
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,