Words I Love
Tradition . . . not just because I’m Jewish and we cling to our traditions, but because I believe that tradition and memories go hand-in-hand. They are part of what I am and part of what my family has been. They can be as simple as saying prayers before a meal or the youngest child placing an angel on top of the Christmas tree or young people taking turns lighting Chanukah candles. When I go back in my memories, I realize why traditions and family are so combined in my mind. When traditions of the home are observed, a true bonding occurs and you really know who you are.
Beautiful . . . as in sunsets, opera, ballet, trees, birds, flowers, and the world. I recall driving to work with the beautiful Pacific Ocean on my left. It was spectacular. The vivid blues and greens and the frothy white waves dancing across the rocks were breathtakingly beautiful. So I held my breath as I turned the curves that offered me a wider seascape and I promised myself that I would never take those wonders for granted. But I did. And in the process, I lost the magic of my drive to work. I forgot to look. I discovered that I only know beauty when I allow myself to see it. It exists in the people I know, in the world around me or in a written sentence. Now I make sure to take the time to look.
Proud . . . as in mother, father, husband, child, family or friends saying, “I’m so proud of you.” For me, that is the ultimate praise. From my child it might be that I look fine or I’ve done something that is impressive. Or it may just be to let me know that I’m a great Mom. From my friends it often comes after an achievement and I can only say “Thank You” when inside I am so pleased. There are some times I hear it and I am overwhelmed because I’m just being me. But coming from a spouse, it’s often as welcome as “I love you”.
Proactive . . . Proactive is a wonderful word that I recently discovered while I was listening to a CD of the Kabbalah. According to the Kabbalah, I need to become proactive as a way of life. “Interesting,” I thought. I, for one, with my feisty Aries blood, am prone to being very reactive. Always being proactive is foreign to me. So I began testing the concept and found it to be magical. The magic is not in what it can do for others, but what it can do for you. I now utter no words that make me despair and wonder why I ever said them . . . no angry remarks . . . no need to justify my position and no need to lose the love and respect of those around me. I’ve become more accepting of people and situations by approaching things softly and kindly. I live with the concept that I’d rather be kind than be right. I’ve learned to be proactive and life is so sweet.
Try . . . Try is a strange word to appear in my list, but for me it’s an important word that has added meaning to my life. Many times I have heard “That’s just the way I’ve always been” or “I’ve always done (whatever) my way,” and I wonder if the word “always” shouldn’t be removed from the dictionary. I believe that the use of “always” coincides with the first sign of aging. It all begins when a young child says, “I don’t like it,” and mother replies, “You always say that. How do you know you don’t like it until you try it?” There’s the rub. New ideas, new approaches, new behaviors, new concepts, all add to the growth and vigor of life. Flexibility is a good response, attitude even better when I’m faced with trying something I’ve never done before. Many new things are frequently worth trying.
Hello . . . as when I pick up the phone and I hear a voice that is dear to me. Hello is much more than just a word. It can cement a relationship. It brings news and insights about what is happening in my world and it says that I am important enough to receive this call. Hello has a strength of its own. When I use it, it can reconnect me with an old friend. It may signal an opportunity to smooth ruffled feathers or begin a conversation that adds pleasure to a homebound individual. It might even be as simple as letting someone know about a brand new recipe or an invitation for lunch. Whatever it is, it always starts with “Hello,” and the tone of voice frequently sets the stage for the conversation. A happy “Hello” is like a warm glow entering the room. The voice of joy may be in a child’s voice. And for me, when I discover my granddaughter’s voice saying, “Hello, Granny,” my heart sings and life is good.
Resilient . . .Webster’s Dictionary’s definition is: The act of leaping or springing back, a rebounding. That’s a great word to define me. It all began fifty-five years ago when I had two babies and was going through another divorce. I was embarrassed, confused and more than a little depressed. I really wasn’t meant to be a divorcee. In my era a divorcee was a scarlet woman, bad and immoral, and this was my second divorce. “Oh, my,” I said to myself, “terrible, terrible.” And then came a revelation. One day I drove down to the pharmacy my parents owned. I had been there a short time when my father asked if I would take his shirts to the Chinese laundry. “Of course,” I answered, and walked the short block to the laundry. As I entered, I glanced over to a wall on my left. There, hanging on the wall in bold print, was a Confucius saying. It read: The glory is not in never having fallen, but in how many times you rise. I’ve lived my life with those words. I’ve rarely been defeated and seldom been depressed. I’m a bouncing ball that, when given time, will always rise.
Love…of course… But love is such a varied word with different degrees and reactions. The love of a mother is not the same as the love of a friend. The love I feel for a sibling is certainly different than the love I feel for my spouse. So why do we have only one word for love? And why have I often been at loss to express the love I feel? I found an answer to the “why’s” that satisfies me. To explain it, I have to go back many years ago when Eddie Cantor (a movie star whose career began before talking movies existed) said, “At the time of the Greeks, there were three words for love: Eros, Philo and Agape. He explained that the erotic love was the word Eros, that the loving familial love was Philo and that Agape was brotherly or friendship love in it’s highest form. So why did we lose these words? I don’t know, but I carry them in my head. And when I say, “I love you” to each person that I love, I know exactly which word I mean.
Beautiful . . . as in sunsets, opera, ballet, trees, birds, flowers, and the world. I recall driving to work with the beautiful Pacific Ocean on my left. It was spectacular. The vivid blues and greens and the frothy white waves dancing across the rocks were breathtakingly beautiful. So I held my breath as I turned the curves that offered me a wider seascape and I promised myself that I would never take those wonders for granted. But I did. And in the process, I lost the magic of my drive to work. I forgot to look. I discovered that I only know beauty when I allow myself to see it. It exists in the people I know, in the world around me or in a written sentence. Now I make sure to take the time to look.
Proud . . . as in mother, father, husband, child, family or friends saying, “I’m so proud of you.” For me, that is the ultimate praise. From my child it might be that I look fine or I’ve done something that is impressive. Or it may just be to let me know that I’m a great Mom. From my friends it often comes after an achievement and I can only say “Thank You” when inside I am so pleased. There are some times I hear it and I am overwhelmed because I’m just being me. But coming from a spouse, it’s often as welcome as “I love you”.
Proactive . . . Proactive is a wonderful word that I recently discovered while I was listening to a CD of the Kabbalah. According to the Kabbalah, I need to become proactive as a way of life. “Interesting,” I thought. I, for one, with my feisty Aries blood, am prone to being very reactive. Always being proactive is foreign to me. So I began testing the concept and found it to be magical. The magic is not in what it can do for others, but what it can do for you. I now utter no words that make me despair and wonder why I ever said them . . . no angry remarks . . . no need to justify my position and no need to lose the love and respect of those around me. I’ve become more accepting of people and situations by approaching things softly and kindly. I live with the concept that I’d rather be kind than be right. I’ve learned to be proactive and life is so sweet.
Try . . . Try is a strange word to appear in my list, but for me it’s an important word that has added meaning to my life. Many times I have heard “That’s just the way I’ve always been” or “I’ve always done (whatever) my way,” and I wonder if the word “always” shouldn’t be removed from the dictionary. I believe that the use of “always” coincides with the first sign of aging. It all begins when a young child says, “I don’t like it,” and mother replies, “You always say that. How do you know you don’t like it until you try it?” There’s the rub. New ideas, new approaches, new behaviors, new concepts, all add to the growth and vigor of life. Flexibility is a good response, attitude even better when I’m faced with trying something I’ve never done before. Many new things are frequently worth trying.
Hello . . . as when I pick up the phone and I hear a voice that is dear to me. Hello is much more than just a word. It can cement a relationship. It brings news and insights about what is happening in my world and it says that I am important enough to receive this call. Hello has a strength of its own. When I use it, it can reconnect me with an old friend. It may signal an opportunity to smooth ruffled feathers or begin a conversation that adds pleasure to a homebound individual. It might even be as simple as letting someone know about a brand new recipe or an invitation for lunch. Whatever it is, it always starts with “Hello,” and the tone of voice frequently sets the stage for the conversation. A happy “Hello” is like a warm glow entering the room. The voice of joy may be in a child’s voice. And for me, when I discover my granddaughter’s voice saying, “Hello, Granny,” my heart sings and life is good.
Resilient . . .Webster’s Dictionary’s definition is: The act of leaping or springing back, a rebounding. That’s a great word to define me. It all began fifty-five years ago when I had two babies and was going through another divorce. I was embarrassed, confused and more than a little depressed. I really wasn’t meant to be a divorcee. In my era a divorcee was a scarlet woman, bad and immoral, and this was my second divorce. “Oh, my,” I said to myself, “terrible, terrible.” And then came a revelation. One day I drove down to the pharmacy my parents owned. I had been there a short time when my father asked if I would take his shirts to the Chinese laundry. “Of course,” I answered, and walked the short block to the laundry. As I entered, I glanced over to a wall on my left. There, hanging on the wall in bold print, was a Confucius saying. It read: The glory is not in never having fallen, but in how many times you rise. I’ve lived my life with those words. I’ve rarely been defeated and seldom been depressed. I’m a bouncing ball that, when given time, will always rise.
Love…of course… But love is such a varied word with different degrees and reactions. The love of a mother is not the same as the love of a friend. The love I feel for a sibling is certainly different than the love I feel for my spouse. So why do we have only one word for love? And why have I often been at loss to express the love I feel? I found an answer to the “why’s” that satisfies me. To explain it, I have to go back many years ago when Eddie Cantor (a movie star whose career began before talking movies existed) said, “At the time of the Greeks, there were three words for love: Eros, Philo and Agape. He explained that the erotic love was the word Eros, that the loving familial love was Philo and that Agape was brotherly or friendship love in it’s highest form. So why did we lose these words? I don’t know, but I carry them in my head. And when I say, “I love you” to each person that I love, I know exactly which word I mean.
No comments:
Post a Comment