Dead Silence: When Part Of Our Language Dies.

SOS. We all know what it signifies. Trouble. Big Trouble.
At the literal level, when we try to unpack the acronym, we get Save Our Souls or Sick Of School or Same Old Song or Sounds Of Silence. Believe me, a shortage of "S" words, there isn't, as I posted just recently.

Generally, though, SOS is one of those acronyms, such as Qantas, that operates as a single unit, so no one feels the need to unpack the initials. Convenience like this usually wins in the end.

In the saving process, the one who saves is always considered worthy. Capsizing boats. Nosediving planes. But also beached whales, endangered species, heritage homes and coral reefs.

Now a new contender asking to be saved has arrived. ITS WORDS!! OLD WORDS...VERY OLD WORDS...Words on the point of oblivion. I have just finished reading an article that Collins Dictionary has launched a Save The Last Word Project for 24 near-extinct words that need public support if they're to hold onto their place on the page.

For a word, axing is the final stage of a long road called dying. First it gets marked as archaic which indicates hospice status. Then teams of lexicographers, like palliative care professionals, convene and consider. They look for evidence of the word's use and, now that we live in an electronic world, that's almost as easy to do as to say. While no one dresses in black or gets out the hymn books, the axing decision is not made lightly!

To pre-empt the death knell, Collins has enlisted the power of celebrity to help save words on the endangered list. Some well-knowns from the media, TV and politics are each adopting an endangered word.

Some examples:
Skirr: the sound made by a bird's wings in flight
Fubsy: short and stout; squat
Niddering: cowardly
Caliginosity: dimness; darkness
Fatidical: prophetic
Periapt: a charm or amulet

During the monitoring period (now until February next year)adopters are to champion their word by introducing it into as many public language opportunitis as they can.

On the Day of Reckoning, the decision to axe or not to axe will be made by Collins on the basis of how well the word has moved beyond its nominal champion's lexicon to a wider natural usage across a range of users and media.

It gives new meaning to "die hard"!!!

This is one of many photos I took at 'Sculpture by the Sea' yesterday.....I thought it was very appropriate to be included in this post.

Not of our Choosing

I have been thinking a good deal about choice lately, how important it is to recognise what choices we are making with regard to our ethics and our behaviour because, as those choices accumulate, they shape the person we become.

But there are other ways in which the notion of choice is much less clear-cut. Politicians and others talk a great deal, for example, about choice in education and medical care, as though choice were an equal-access opportunity. Questions of choice become more complicated still in situations that are not dependent on wealth or health but on quirks of fate or luck.

Losing a job you like because the company collapses; not having the marriage or career you expected; not having the child you've longed for since you were a child yourself; buying a house in the wrong suburb at the wrong time; having a major crisis of faith; losing a beloved person far too early; experiencing betrayal: the list can be endless - and endlessly unfair!

There is no worst here. When is come to suffering, comparisons are totally useless. Each serious loss, disappointment or sorrow is felt acutely. Knowing that others may have worse sorrows brings little or no comfort.

It is impossible to offer a simple formula for these situations, yet I am confident that talking about what we are feeling is almost always much better than avoiding it. Burying a sorrow in a mountain of work or at the bottom of a glass is tempting, but it gives the wound no chance to heal. It also means there is no chance to gain a little insight and compassion, or to receive the kindness that others can give you.

It takes courage to speak frankly about our toughest griefs. It takes more courage still to accept the comfort of others, especially when that's often clumsy and inadequate. Yet, the truth is we human beings are social creatures, and while talking about our sorrows cannot change them, it re-establishes a crucial sense of connection and almost always brings glimpses of relief.

Some people benefit from confiding in the people closest to them, others from talking to a professional, while many others find that their greatest support comes from listening as well as talking to people in the same situation as themselves.

Soul baring of this kind is not the same as friendly chats. It requires facing raw truths and building some acceptance, at least of what cannot be changed. Sometimes a different idea of 'choice' may emerge and even unexpected sets of possibilities.

But first there needs to be honest grieving for the old reality or lost dreams. Recovery from any kind of serious setback is usually patchy. Patience as well as time is needed. Yet even the toughest of situations can yield up moments of kindness and relief if we let them. It's kindness that can sustain and restore trust: not trust that life will be as we once hoped, but trust that life is nevertheless worth living - and that our own crumpled version of it remains precious and unique.

I write this piece acknowledging that I have been 'to hell and back' and now immensely enjoy the road I am travelling along with an inner peace and appreciation and love for all the people who helped me along the way.

Our Journey Begins


Sometimes Darkness Engulfs Us


There Is Always Light At The End Of The Tunnel


I took these photos while barging in Eastern France in June 2008; three glorious weeks, one of the most relaxing holidays I have ever experienced.

When God Paints

I was sent this email today, it said the photos had not been enhanced, but even if they have, there is no denying the beauty of nature.

The first photo had this title:
The Day the Paint Box fell from Heaven'. (This is a real place outside Bakersfield , California )




































We live in an awesome world.
Make it an awesome day.
Peace To All and May God Bless You
Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
Leave the rest to God.

Luggage Lunacy

As a few of you know I usually travel overseas once a year. Living in Australia so far away from just about everywhere, I feel the call to explore, discover, learn about other places/people in our beautiful world.

BUT before I can leave my destination airport there is a ritual to go through which I would like to share with you all.....a detail of modern life that never fails to amaze and mostly amuse me, it the way normal-looking people behave around airport baggage carousels.

We all get off the plane, traipse along endless dreary corridors and queue through Passport Control without incident, but then the weary but still basically civilised crowd hits the luggage-collection area and is transformed into a crazy, wild-eyed mob! Men in executive suits and women in smart-casual clothes suddenly become raving lunatics.

The first sign of this lemming-like fever is the sprint to be as close as possible to the point where the bags appear from the great hidden beyond that is the airport baggage handling area. I always deliberately stand on the far side to try to avoid the really mad people. Having established a comfy spot where I can see what's coming, but where there is no one with an overly aggressive demeanour too close, I settle in for the wait.

But no matter how unappealing my spot in the hierarchy of prime carousel-watching real estate, after about 15 minutes, when I am feeling a certain claim over my territory, someone will come and stand right in front of me, leaning in over the conveyor belt, so it's suddenly impossible to see anything, let alone grab my bag should it ever appear.

I try to rise above it by attempting to understand the behaviour I see around me. I can appreciate that, at the end of a long journey, everyone just wants to get the hell out of there - and then there is the issue of the taxi queue. But, really, is it going to make that much of a difference to the big picture of your journey if you have to wait two more minutes to grab your bag?

Rational thought doesn't seem to come into it. There is a kind of demented group obsession to see the bag. Then get the bag. Woe betide you if you're in the way when Mrs Grabby has spotted her case coming along. She'd club you to death to get at it!

There seems to be a great fear of not getting the bag off the carousel immediately. What do they think will happen if they can't get to it the first time and it goes back through the rubber curtain? Have they confused the moving luggage carousel with the set-up at a crematorium? Do they think their bag will be taken straight into an incinerator? Surely they have seen the strange purple suitcase that goes round and round in every luggage-collection hall on earth? Wait five flipping minutes and your bag will come round again like a tired slice of mackerael in a conveyor-belt sushi joint.

The philosophical me asks could we please rise up and end this collective luggage lunacy? All together now: ohmmmmmmmmm.....

Post Script
Now I was not going to mention philosophy in this post as Roban (Flygirl) commented I was too philosophical for her at this point in time (I totally agree I go overboard sometimes) and Annemarie (McMGrad89) asked does my brain hurt......yes when I don't get enough sleep........BUT I had to slip it in didn't I!!!!

I took this photo while barging in France in June this year......just look how orderly these cows lined up to have their photos taken....we can learn alot from them.

Answers, Questions and maybe WISDOM!

My philosophy class resumed last week for another term, so I am feeling in a very philosophical mood......it will pass, but I will take advantage of it while I am here....or should that be whilst I am here?

ONE of the greatest gifts one generation can give to another is the knowledge gained from experience!

Wisdom is a rare commodity. There are a lot of very brilliant people, bright people, clever people, NOT so many people who are wise.

Wisdom isn't an answer, wisdom IS a question! I went to see a shrink once, I was bothered by things in my childhood and my youth.......And I was so disappointed that the shrink didn't have a big bag of answers! I came to be very grateful for it later, that what they have is a big bag of questions. We have the answers....And that is when I found that the answer is invariably in the question. We carry our own question around with us.......are you still with me!

I grew up feeling unloved - all around me were seemingly happy, blissful people and my question was WHY don't I feel like everyone else.

There is no answer. It's like your Mother saying "where have you been till this time of night". The question was in the answer. She didn't want you to tell her. The question WAS the answer......And thats where wisdom is: in the constant questioning of where you are......And when you stop wanting to know, you're dead......You're walking, but you're dead.

What do I live by? - one of the things I try to do is not to believe in too much.

What do I know that's absolutely, incontrovertibly true? - All I can say is that everything changes. Thats all I know with any degree of certainty! It's all going to change and flowing within change keeps us flexible.......And helps to develop a sense of humour about everything!

Gee I am glad I got that off my chest!!

In 2007 3 friends and myself travelled to the Northern Territory in Australia and visited Kings Canyon, I took dozens of photos but this one gave me a feeling of wonderment.