On Finding The Right Word

 

The summer continues.

I’ve grown herbs and poppies from seed, which brings me so much joy.  I’ve seen specialists about bones and joints (and I think there’s a plan forward), and I commuted into the office – once, in what, two years? – and it left me exhausted and grateful I don’t have to do that on a regular basis. 

my poppies

All that hurrying for trains, being jostled and pummeled by commuters’ backpacks. Of course, everyone is carrying a backpack on their commutes, laptops tucked inside, as they alternate work from home days with going into the office. I do not miss those commutes. I much prefer my slower-paced work-from-home days with four day weekends each week. Life, along with writing and painting, has slowed down this summer. But am I languishing?

Do you remember when ‘languishing’ was the word for a short period during COVID? Languishing, the opposite of flourishing. We were languishing in our lockdowns. It’s a word that has seemed appropriate lately, with the heat of summer, the slowing down, the political situation to the south of us, the devastating fires in Jasper, Alberta.

Commuting nightmare

It is a word that is filled with a smidgeon of sadness, despair. As if hope is slowly seeping out. But no – as of a week or so ago, hope is rearing up again south of the border, and we Canadians are excited about it.

The Merriam Webster dictionary defines Languishing as:

·       to be or become feeble, weak, or enervated

·       to be or live in a state of depression or decreasing vitality

·       to become dispirited

·       to suffer neglect

·       to assume an expression of grief or emotion appealing for sympathy

No, then, that’s not it. None of the above applies to me or my summer.

my only painting in 2 mths.

Languid then? Have I been spending languid summer days? Merriam Webster: Languid is about lack. Depending on its context, the word can suggest a lack of strength, lack of energy, or lack of activity.

 No, that’s not it either. I’ve lacked neither strength nor energy nor activity.

I’ve been playing tennis and pickleball, walking when it’s not too hot, meeting up on patios with family and friends. But, I’ve also been happily inactive, sprawled on my couch, watching Netflix and the Olympics, listening to US by David Nicholls, reading an old Kristin Hannah (On Mystic Lake) and The Villa (by Rachel Hawkins) which is superb.

So what about Languorous? Merriam Webster: Languorous suggests a dreamy boredom and delicacy that avoids unnecessary activity.

And maybe that’s it. So far my summer has been languorous and I like it.

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US by David Nicholls. A beautifully poignant story told from the man’s perspective. What happens when you’ve been married many years, raised a kid (a teenage son whose choices you don’t understand), love your wife, but she feels your marriage has run its course? You try for one last family grand tour of Europe, hoping to revive your marriage, convince your wife not to leave, get closer to your son.

The writing is beautiful and witty and touching. A marriage where nothing is really ‘wrong’, they still love each other, but somewhere along the way, the woman has given up her passion for the arts, given up part of herself. I suspect this will sound familiar to many women.

There is no big drama, no acrimony, nothing as trendy as a “conscious uncoupling”; it’s a quiet, humourous but insightful look at how one couple came together, married, then came apart.

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THE VILLA by RACHEL HAWKINS.

Oh this book, it kept me turning pages late into the night. Okay, for me, late into the night means past 10.00 pm. But this is one heck of a thrilling ride, a book within a book, combining present with past.

Two friends, both writers, one a cozy mystery writer, the other a self-proclaimed self-help guru of the just-shut-down-your-negative-emotions and Swipe Right on Life variety, go to a villa in Orvieto, Italy, for the summer. The cozy writer uncovers details of the villa’s past: rock star and friends, a murder, followed by a bestselling book. It ignites her own flagging writing which of course makes her frenemy jealous. Need I say more? A delicious read, funny, dark, twisty.

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