Word Winding

attempting to spin cacophony into sanity

Breezy Brain

Wow, who knew the power of finding the right word? I’ve spent my whole life obsessed with words. The taste of them in your mouth when whispered or shouted. The science of their coming-to-be. The magic of finding just the right order to make something happen. The irresistible allure of foreign languages. The unique topography each written word has, like a famous skyline.

I wrote about stingy the other day.

That word is my own personal savior/Easter Bunny.

You know how when you are meditating it can be helpful to simply exhale the word “thinking,” to yourself whenever you realize you are beginning to follow a train of thought? “Stingy” is my everyday life version of that. And bizarrely, it works just as well for me. Shuts it down without rebuke, without follow-up… and in the absence of the stinge?

Space.

Free, uncluttered mental space, the kind mothers of young children would dream of except someone always spills juice or needs zipper help or has both hands wrapped around the lamp cord before proper envisioning ensues.

So, yeah. All of those thoughts I was so mired in? Turns out I don’t need em. “Stingy,” I say to them, and they waddle away without protest.

Find your magic word, people. Find it and wield it with gusto.

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