Merely a Strand

[The many underlined links in this post will give further insight.

Thanks to Uplift for the graphic and the additional information] 

Decades ago, when I first began learning about the ongoing destruction and looming decimation of the rain forests, my concern mainly focused on the plant and animal life being obliterated. 

In more recent years, study after study has shown that rain forests hold dozens upon dozens of plants which prove to be beneficial, and even curative, to humans. In fact, more than 1/4 of all medicines we use come from rain forests.

One of the newer scientific discoveries is that "...a weed traditional healers in the Amazon have used for hundreds of years ... has the power to stop [a particular infection in mice]." Of course, the next step will be human trials. 

Actually, these discoveries are not surprising to me. I have long believed that there is a cure in the natural world for every ailment we humans have. We are, wondrously and amazingly, part of a vibrant living network (really no better and no worse, no lower and no higher, than the worm making its way through my garden soil). 

If more humans realized this I am fairly certain we would not be quite so blasé about spraying, dripping and otherwise applying poisons to unwanted "weeds," stepping on a spider or killing a snake or mosquito. Yes, yes, yes, we can get them out of our lawns and homes, off of our skin, away from our food, but it does not have to be done with poisons or the heel of a garden boot. 

Stephen Hawking rightly observed that "greed and stupidity...  will cause the end of the human race." We humans are merely a strand in the web of life; possibly necessary for some biochemical process, maybe even vital (oh the ego!), but probably not. If we continue to destroy, we teeter closer and closer to the edge and will soon self-destruct.  

We are all connected. 

To each other, biologically. 

To the earth, chemically. 

~Neil deGrasse Tysonn

With Other Thoughts

And some day there will be nothing left of everything that has twisted my life and grieved it and filled me so often with such anguish. 

Some day, with the last exhaustion, peace will come and the motherly earth will gather me back home. 

It won't be the end of things, only a way of being born again, a bathing and a slumbering where the old and the withered sink down, where the young and new begin to breathe. 

Then, with other thoughts, I will walk along streets like these, and listen to streams, and overhear what the sky says in the evening, over and over and over. ~ Hermann Hesse

A good friend of mine worries a lot, talks a lot, about death and dying. Understandable, in many ways. This friend is close to my age and many of our loved ones are either experiencing dire, life-altering health issues, or have recently died. 

Not in the exact words of Hesse, but in some form, I tell my friend, "When '...the old and the withered sink down, ... the young and new begin to breathe.' That is as it should be. We will soon have had our time on this planet and, if we're fortunate, Mother Earth will take us gently back to her bosom." 

I can appreciate momentarily dwelling on the concerns of illness and death, but then I want to move on to the NOW of life, the life we are still fortunate enough to have, the experiences we are still able to enjoy, the plans we can make for tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow. 

After all, as Thornton Wilder observed, "We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." 

Grammar Yammer

John Simon, the pugnacious and astute grammarian, writes: Is anything more parlous than the state of our beloved mother tongue? Well, not mine actually [Simon was was born in Yugoslavia], but at any rate stepmother tongue. It may be a kind of haughtiness, but I wince whenever I encounter an offense against grammar, spelling or pronunciation. If only it weren't considered bad manners to correct someone else's speech or writing, things would still be bearable; but nowadays, instead of thanks, you might get a punch in the nose. 

In no way do I put myself in the same class as Simon (well, except maybe the pugnacious part!). However, I do believe our language is being dumbed-down on a daily basis, *ANGAS. Read on to discover a few of the latest language missteps I've come across.

I read the following in a monthly magazine: "When children start learning about [blank] at an early age they better understand ... ." Does this mean "children darn well better understand!" or, "children understand better"? 

Another article in the same publication stated, "The average professor's salary is ... ," I couldn't help but wonder what the above-average professor's salary might be!

An item in our local newspaper touting a new ethnic restaurant stated, "... the menu was built around ... recipes for street food he'd picked up while visiting [a foreign country]." I immediately thought of this restaurant owner literally picking food scraps off the street and crafting recipes from them! 

How about this one? In the same paper, a reporter wrote about a neighborhood burglary: "...some items she knew belonged to her neighbor, in tow." Poor neighbor, robbed and then towed! 

A recent review of a local medical office states the practice was "...established in 1968 and has been in business until now." I interpreted that statement to mean the business had closed. Not so. 

                      ...all I know about grammar is its power.
                                     ~Joan Didion, author

If I broach friends with word and sentence twists such as these, their sometimes dismissive comment is, "Well, you know what the writer meant."

True enough. Although, because my mind will have veered toward focusing on what I deem an oddly worded statement, it may take some time to get back into the swing of what I'm reading. 

Oh, about that word "broach." Have any of you noticed how often "broach" is used when the speaker is referring to a brooch, a pin for a woman's blouse or jacket? Actually, after polling a few friends, I've come to understand that this pronunciation is regional (as is adding an "s" to toward and anyway).  

How many times have you heard people say something is not their "forte" and pronounce it as "for-tay"? This mispronunciation has become so wide-spread that it's almost an acceptable variation. The fact is there are two "fortes" in English, each with a different pronunciation. Forte/for-tay means "strong" or "loud" and is usually used in a musical context. Forte/fort means "strong point" or "strength." 

Fortuitous originally meant accidental. Due to incorrect but common usage, a second definition of "lucky" is now in our dictionaries. 

A story about a returning veteran and his wife stated they attended "...a recent friend's wedding." Is the person a fairly new friend of the couple or do you suppose the author meant the wedding was recent? 

                   Words are the currency of human discourse

                                                ~Anu Garg

                                                        

There seems to be a huge misunderstanding about the proper use of quotation marks (speaking here of double quote marks). They are appropriate when using nicknames and jargon (or slang), when referring to an artistic work, or to indicate irony. They should not be used as emphasis. 

When I see quote marks used as emphasis in signage it's as though the advertiser is saying, "Well, not really. Just joking." 

With photo and story, an article in today's paper told of an Oregon man who won $5,000 a week forever. A picture of the lucky winner shows him holding a large sign stating this fact. Publisher's Clearing House chose to put quotation marks around the word "forever."

One final gripe. Why do business advertisements often state, "Free Gift"? Isn't a gift always free?

A dear and compassionate friend of mine often says she feels "badly" about something or other. Actually, her sense of touch is just fine—she means she feels "bad" about ... whatever it is. We two laugh about word foibles such as these. Our friendship is such that we understand we can correct or question each other at any time about word usage, spelling or grammar. We both learn something and never feel we have been on the receiving end of a "lesson," or that we have come off as a pedant. 

I am aware of many of my own language missteps and work to correct them, yet I know errors continue to pop up. As I've asked before, please do not hesitate to set me straight or to discuss those errors! If you know me at all, you know I want to learn, I want to understand. 

                                 A man's grammar, like Caeser's wife,

should not only be pure,

but above suspicion of impurity

~Edgar Allan Poe

*And Nobody Gives a S _ _ _!

Don't be a Gobemouche

A few years ago, a Portland attorney wrote a letter to the editor of the Wall Street Journal commenting on an article titled, "When the Boss Is a Screamer.” He makes a distinction between those who yell due to being emotionally unstable and those who yell to make a point.

As an example, he recalls when his commanding officer in the Navy screamed at him and he immediately “…got the message and it worked.”
However, "The ... consensus among managers is that yelling alarms people, drives them away rather than inspiring them, and hurts the quality of their work." 

The attorney ends his letter by stating, “There were many effective screamers when [he] started practicing law. However, the increase in female lawyers changed everything. Men yelled at each other and got over it. Women wouldn’t take it, wouldn’t forget it, and yelling proved so ineffective with them that male lawyers had to change their ways.”
I wonder if he knows just how telling these last words are. Because they are the final comments in his letter, we have no idea what he thinks of this turnaround. However, from his previous statement regarding his reaction to the commanding officer, my sense is he wishes the advent of more women in the profession had not forced the male lawyers “…to change their ways.”  

Most women will listen to calm reasoning and participate in logical, back and forth discussion. However, we will not yield to someone whose only “weapon” is a thundering voice.

I have been on the receiving end of a screamer’s rant—it effectively closed my ears and my mind. In fact, when this has happened the result has been that I feel more empowered, and consider the one yelling to be almost nullified.

The message might have also gotten through to him if it had been delivered with more thoughtfulness and less volume.
In my opinion, there are only a few valid reasons to yell: to warn others of impending danger, call for a wandering child or scream for help.

Re-reading this letter, I thought of the massive amount of political vitriol that continues to bombard us—the hateful and often untrue or taken-out-of-context broadcasts and broadsides which literally, and figuratively, scream at us.

Because facts are skewed and lies are strewn, I tend close my mind and my ears to all of this, no matter which “side” is doing the hollering. 

Instead, using some fairly well-honed, not-yet-perfected, critical thinking skills, I pay attention to deftly and factually worded pieces regarding political issues. Admittedly, this process is more difficult than if I were simply a Gobemouche, believing whoever hollers the loudest. 

When you have the facts on your side, argue the facts.

When you have the law on your side, argue the law.

When you have neither, holler. 

~Al Gore

Reflecting on Mother Earth and Father Time in my Garden

Springtime 2019. One-third of the way through my 82nd year. Another opportunity to plant, to grow. Another season to reflect on, and marvel at, what survived winter's harsh "lessons" and what succumbed. 

Mother Earth continues to show me that being resilient does not mean my plants and I won't show some of the effects of passing seasons. Where there is decay in one area, there is rebirth and renewal in another. 

As the seasons come and go, Father Time perseveres and reveals just how powerful 'he' is. A perennial flower planted seven years ago spread and grew, regaling with vibrant colors of red, orange and brilliant green ... until this year. As I eagerly searched beneath the cool and damp soil for signs of rebirth, I discovered Winter's freezing temperatures had heaved the ground, dug icy fingers deep into the soil, grasped tender roots and dealt a death blow to the plant. Its "time" had come. 

Discovering a dead or dying flower, tree, or shrub, always hurts my heart. I know this is the way life, all life,  is. I understand there are not only natural cycles of life, but there are events, circumstances, happenings, over which we have no control. Still, I ache. 

However, as with the now-dead, much-loved perennial, I know the energy which sustained the plant has simply taken a new form and is now, possibly, feeding the roots of the newly planted.

We do as much to sustain ourselves as our human energy and attention allows: we make adjustments to our lifestyles, we read and delve and explore options to enhance our lives. And yet ... and yet ... we find Mother Earth is actually quite selfish. Her one goal is to sustain life and the form doesn't matter. She conspires with Father Time to accomplish this goal. 

Yes, Mother Earth and Father Time are having another tryst in my garden. My deeply rooted love of nature means accepting the cycles and the changes they conspire to bring to my life.  

The garden is one of the two great metaphors for humanity.
The garden is about life and beauty 

and the impermanence of all living things. ...
Annie Lamott

Learning CPR

I never did learn how to "do" CPR, cardio pulmonary resuscitation. Years ago, the dental office staff and I had more than adequate instruction. I just never mastered the correct rhythm; which made me feel more of a dummy than the CPR "dummy." 
        However, I feel I have come very close to mastering another type of CPR: learning how to be calm, patient and reasonable with myself. 
  
In this crazy, mixed-up world of ours it's not easy to remain that way: calm, patient and reasonable. It seems as though we're being pummeled on all sides by dire news and the admonition to be afraid. Afraid and fearful and wary.
        My semi-religious upbringing occurred in the Christian Science Church. As limned in several earlier blog posts, in an attempt to live what she felt were the tenets of that philosophy, Mother would not allow in our home any discussion of, mention of, word of, the world's strife, war or upheaval. Dad seemed to relish dwelling on the same. Talk about a Yin and Yang household! 
      (Yes, I am aware that Yin and Yang, together, create wholeness and completion and for over 63 years, until Dad's death, Mom and Dad seemed to epitomize this philosophy.)

My thoughts of late regarding calmness, patience and reasonableness have less to do with the impact from the outside world and more to do with my sometimes frightened and unsure interior mindscape. 
            I'm learning to be patient with my physical self and its ever-enlarging litany of limitations. I'm practicing ways to stay calm when my mind wants to wander to new worries and concerns. I'm concentrating on being reasonable, not beat myself up, when I now and then forget a word or have a momentary lapse about where I placed my car keys.
            The more I practice my own type of CPR, the more often my breathing calms and my mind clears. So, this "dummy" is just going to keep on practicing. Yet, what an odd world: when I finally feel I've gotten my mind together, my body sometimes feels as though it's falling apart. 

My Halo is Personal

My 22-degree halo

These clouds contain millions of tiny ice crystals. The halos you see are caused by both refraction, or splitting of light, and also by reflection, or glints of light from these ice crystals. The crystals have to be oriented and positioned just so with respect to your eye, in order for the halo to appear.

That’s why, like rainbows, halos around the sun - or moon – are personal. Everyone sees their own particular halo, made by their own particular ice crystals, which are different from the ice crystals making the halo of the person standing next to you. 

"Everyone sees their own particular halo," just as we all have our own particular take on life's occurrences and anomalies based upon where we're standing, metaphorically and physically. 

The "ice crystals," or experiences that make up my "halo" can never be seen by those interacting with me. 

Conversely, no matter how I may study, change my literal or figurative position or attempt to move to the space where another stands, I cannot actually "see" what he sees. 

I've finally realized that if I move just a tiny bit, those "ice crystals," those seemingly frozen concepts I've held for decades, actually begin to refract and the light that emanates helps me see much clearer into a myriad of  issues, social and personal. It's a matter of moving just a few degrees.

I always get to where I'm going by walking away from where I've been. 

~The Tao of Pooh