Reading Jon Kabat-Zinn again. I should probably re-read him regularly. Today I read about the concept of the tao, or life as a path. This is an enlightening concept for me. As I try to analyze the source of stresses in my life, the reason behind my constantly-clenched stomach muscles, for example, or my lack of just joyous spontanaety with my kids, I realize that I have always been just so concerned with my destination. I have been so hard on myself for not already having achieved various things, and this self-criticism has done more, ironically, to keep me from making any kind of progress than anything else.
I want to give up the expectation that I reach any destinations in this life. I want to learn to love the path, to accept that I am on it and not expect myself to be anywhere else. I want to quit yearning so much and start accepting more. I think that in addition to making me a more healthy person, this will also benefit me in other ways—I will become a better mother. But not (and this is important) because I am trying to be a better mother (destination). Rather, as a side-effect of being more accepting of myself.
I can see that my children have inherited this demanding, self-criticalness, either from me or just as a result of living in this world. The best way I can help them overcome this is to show them an example of self-acceptance.
And while we’re on the subject of self-acceptance, I promised you a follow-up to my envy post. I’ve toyed with talking about the things I like about myself, or the things I am grateful for (great for November!), etc. But I think what I’ll do is address the specific things I mentioned in my first post about envy. The things I have envied are in italics. My response to them is not.
So here goes.
1. People who are extremely healthy, and people who are very strong. People who can run like antelope instead of plodding along at a half jog like I do. People who can stay up late watching TV with their spouses (and by late, I mean after 10:00).
I can get up early and exercise every day. I am not tempted to lie abed, and I get a great surge of adrenaline with each new day. (I am so aware that there are people who can’t even get out of bed all day. Thus I will never, ever take this aspect of myself for granted.) I have worked hard and can now “jog” 5 miles per hour relatively comfortable for 30 minutes. This has taken much diligence and patience because I progress very, very slowly. I am strong enough to do all I need to do (my shoulders can carry the burdens placed on them), and capable of saying yes to any request or calling. I can’t stay up late but, on the flip side, I rarely ever have insomnia and sleep right through every night.
2. Women with thick hair. Well, I have hair. I am not currently undergoing chemo. I don’t look too bad, in general, and don’t hesitate to meet other people’s eyes because I feel ugly. I am not dependent on makeup and don’t scare anyone when they catch sight of me on a no-makeup day. Women with skinny little girl bodies. My size is acceptable and relatively easy to buy clothes for. My husband thinks I’m beautiful. I feel that the sacrifice in skinniness that it took to be a mother is well worth it. Thus I am in the process of making peace with looking like a mother. (It's just a little harder to make peace with looking like a middle-aged mother.) But I like not being 22 anymore. Women who have the money and lack of guilt to make their faces look 25 when they are actually 55. I have seen some women debilitated with the fear of looking their age. I don’t have this problem (though, of course, I’d prefer to stay young-looking if I could do it naturally).
3. People who are out of debt. We are well on-track to being out of debt and not doing too badly for ourselves. I am not distracted by get-rich-quick ideas. I feel confident that God is pleased with our progress and wants us to be diligent and patient. And R has a good job that is not in jeopardy (thank goodness).
4. Amazingly gifted writers. I am no writing genius, but I have some talent so that I know I can succeed when I want to put forth the effort. Writers with amazing work ethics who are determined to succeed. Well, I don’t worry about this one very much, because I’ve found that I can work very hard on something I’m passionate about. I just haven’t found much that I care enough about yet. I’m trying to follow my heart more and not be frustrated at myself for not feeling passionate about a project. Writers who know how to trust their subconscious. I’m going to work on this one. Writers with great agents. Writers with great book deals. Famous writers. In fact, I envy anyone who can answer with ease the question I get too often, “So, what books have you published?” . I could fix that if I fixed the “passionate” problem, above. I am getting much better at not envying these things as I recognize more how much desire plays in all this. I don’t desire to complete any of these big projects all that much. Also, I’ve seen some people succeed at these things and seen that they (these things) don’t bring satisfaction. Recently I was honored at an awards ceremony for some writing I’m having a hard time caring about and the award wasn’t satisfying at all since I knew the project didn’t have my heart in it.
5. People with really close best friends that they never feel insecure about. But I do have some very close friends—people who are gifted and fascinating and caring. I am very blessed.
6. People with beautiful solo voices. But I can carry a tune decently enough to enjoy singing in choirs and small groups, and I love doing it.
7. People who can knit sweaters while holding conversations, and who know how to pick the pattern and the yarn just right. People who can spin. 8. People with the ability to memorize easily. 9. People with the desire to keep their houses really clean at all times and the enjoyment of such. 10. People with the ability to cook, and the enjoyment of such. 11. People who know how to meditate and do it well. 12. Vegetarians. But not really. However, I do envy people who eat very well because they enjoy it. These are all just a matter of effort. I need to decide to change or let it go. And quit judging others!
13. Women who know how to shop, and women who know how to dress. Women who can wear hats or scarves and look great and confident in them. Women who, even when they’re a little heavy, know well enough how to dress that they look nice all the time. Women who know how to pluck and color eyebrows. This one is harder for me, and that tells me I need to do some soul-work. This one is closer to envy than many of the others, because I sometimes find myself resenting or judging women who look very put-together. Or just better than me in general. I’ve got to find a happy medium between putting more effort into what I care about or just deciding not to care.
14. Women who come alive in the afternoon and evening hours, so that their kids get their very best. This one I can’t change (see #1—I’m a morning person). But I can put more effort into organizing my day so that I can marshal what resources I have during the hard times of day. I have seen great improvement on the days I manage to do this. This one just requires effort and patience.
15. People who got to go on Study Abroad during college. I STILL smart sometimes at the opportunities I missed when I was younger. But I am who I am because of what I did do. And I like who I am. Meanwhile, I’m going about getting into my life the things that I missed—like going to grad school next year.
16. People who love being with other people’s kids and are easygoing with them. Also, parents who constantly have fun with their kids. I’m getting better at this as I get older. Also, as I learn to let go of expectations of myself and others (the path). I look forward to enjoying improvement in this area by the time I’m a grandmother!
17. People with really great laughs. Funny people. I can’t change these but I can work on enjoying these people more instead of seething with envy. I think as I learn to loosen up more, I will learn to laugh more easily and sense more joyous moments. I am blessed to be surrounded by people with great senses of humor.
18. Those women that people refer to in Relief Society when they say, “I have a friend who is always there for me, who never judges, who silently serves.” This is one that I’ve got to just let go. I know that I have a good and well-meaning heart, that I am constantly trying to be a caring friend to those around me. Thank goodness for my strong testimony that God knows my heart and that He will let me be a blessing to others, if I desire it, even if He doesn’t let me know how and when that happens. I’m trusting in that.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Green-eyed
I’ve been stuck on the question from the scriptures, “Are you stripped of envy?” This, combined with my current e-audiobook by Wayne Dyer, has got me convinced that my life would be much more peaceful, creative and satisfying if I could permanently eliminate envy from my life. Just since I’ve started pondering this, I have been astounded at how much of my thinking is focused on what I don’t have. I want to commit myself to a zero-tolerance policy for envy. So this post is my farewell to all those old envies.
Things I will no longer envy:
People who are extremely healthy, and people who are very strong. People who can run like antelope instead of plodding along at a half jog like I do. People who can stay up late watching TV with their spouses (and by late, I mean after 10:00).
Women with thick hair. Women with skinny little girl bodies. Women who have the money and lack of guilt to make their faces look 25 when they are actually 55.
People who are out of debt.
Amazingly gifted writers. Writers with amazing work ethics who are determined to succeed. Writers who know how to trust their subconscious. Writers with great agents. Writers with great book deals. Famous writers. In fact, I envy anyone who can answer with ease the question I get too often, “So, what books have you published?”
People with really close best friends that they never feel insecure about.
People with beautiful solo voices.
People who can knit sweaters while holding conversations, and who know how to pick the pattern and the yarn just right. People who can spin.
Vegetarians. But not really. However, I do envy people who eat very well because they enjoy it.
Women who know how to shop, and women who know how to dress. Women who can wear hats or scarves and look great and confident in them. Women who, even when they’re a little heavy, know well enough how to dress that they look nice all the time. Women who know how to pluck and color eyebrows.
Women who come alive in the afternoon and evening hours, so that their kids get their very best.
People with the ability to memorize easily.
People who got to go on Study Abroad during college.
People with the desire to keep their houses really clean at all times and the enjoyment of such.
People with the ability to cook, and the enjoyment of such.
People who love being with other people’s kids and are easygoing with them. Also, parents who constantly have fun with their kids.
People with really great laughs.
Funny people.
Those women that people refer to in Relief Society when they say, “I have a friend who is always there for me, who never judges, who silently serves.” (I don’t think anyone would say this about me. I feel like I’m always eager to serve, but never know how. I’m constantly bungling around. I want to be one of those elegant servers who know when to show up and how.)
People who know how to meditate and do it well.
Ah, man, I could go on. As I look at this list, I realize a couple of things.
First, I’m most susceptible to envy when it involves something I want but which I’m simply not willing to commit to getting. The ability to memorize, for example. Or knit, or spin, or meditate well and often. All these things I could get if I wanted them badly enough. Obviously, I don’t. So why do I waste mental energy envying people who have them? In some cases, I’ve done pretty well at making peace with my decision not to invest. The clean house, for example. It only bothers me mildly when other people have cleaner houses than mine. (The fact that it does proves that it is envy at work, not simply admiration.) But for the most part I’m willing to let that one go. If I could get used to letting other things go, like wanting to be a passionate writer, I would have more peace.
Second, envy isn’t the recognition of good things that I lack. Envy is the slight resentment towards the people who do have them. Envy is more about how I feel towards the other person and less about how I feel about their gifts. Which is why I made myself write “People who . . .” on the list instead of “the ability to . . .” I don’t think there’s anything wrong with recognizing that something might be valuable to have. The evil of envy is when I let it separate me from others because I feel inferior to them.
My goal, then, is to make my peace about the things I’m dedicated to seeking in my life, and the things I’m not going to invest in or simply can’t have (thick hair, for example). I may not have a natural gift with children, for example, but I’ll waste no more energy on wishing I were someone who does. I can use my energy to try to teach myself to be more in the moment, more loving, when I am with them. But wishing I didn’t have to work at it just wears me down.
I think that in conjunction with my decision to renounce envy, I also should commit to noticing and enjoying the things/gifts I DO have. So maybe I’ll make another list to that effect in my next blog. (Bet you’re on the edge of your seat for that one.)
Things I will no longer envy:
People who are extremely healthy, and people who are very strong. People who can run like antelope instead of plodding along at a half jog like I do. People who can stay up late watching TV with their spouses (and by late, I mean after 10:00).
Women with thick hair. Women with skinny little girl bodies. Women who have the money and lack of guilt to make their faces look 25 when they are actually 55.
People who are out of debt.
Amazingly gifted writers. Writers with amazing work ethics who are determined to succeed. Writers who know how to trust their subconscious. Writers with great agents. Writers with great book deals. Famous writers. In fact, I envy anyone who can answer with ease the question I get too often, “So, what books have you published?”
People with really close best friends that they never feel insecure about.
People with beautiful solo voices.
People who can knit sweaters while holding conversations, and who know how to pick the pattern and the yarn just right. People who can spin.
Vegetarians. But not really. However, I do envy people who eat very well because they enjoy it.
Women who know how to shop, and women who know how to dress. Women who can wear hats or scarves and look great and confident in them. Women who, even when they’re a little heavy, know well enough how to dress that they look nice all the time. Women who know how to pluck and color eyebrows.
Women who come alive in the afternoon and evening hours, so that their kids get their very best.
People with the ability to memorize easily.
People who got to go on Study Abroad during college.
People with the desire to keep their houses really clean at all times and the enjoyment of such.
People with the ability to cook, and the enjoyment of such.
People who love being with other people’s kids and are easygoing with them. Also, parents who constantly have fun with their kids.
People with really great laughs.
Funny people.
Those women that people refer to in Relief Society when they say, “I have a friend who is always there for me, who never judges, who silently serves.” (I don’t think anyone would say this about me. I feel like I’m always eager to serve, but never know how. I’m constantly bungling around. I want to be one of those elegant servers who know when to show up and how.)
People who know how to meditate and do it well.
Ah, man, I could go on. As I look at this list, I realize a couple of things.
First, I’m most susceptible to envy when it involves something I want but which I’m simply not willing to commit to getting. The ability to memorize, for example. Or knit, or spin, or meditate well and often. All these things I could get if I wanted them badly enough. Obviously, I don’t. So why do I waste mental energy envying people who have them? In some cases, I’ve done pretty well at making peace with my decision not to invest. The clean house, for example. It only bothers me mildly when other people have cleaner houses than mine. (The fact that it does proves that it is envy at work, not simply admiration.) But for the most part I’m willing to let that one go. If I could get used to letting other things go, like wanting to be a passionate writer, I would have more peace.
Second, envy isn’t the recognition of good things that I lack. Envy is the slight resentment towards the people who do have them. Envy is more about how I feel towards the other person and less about how I feel about their gifts. Which is why I made myself write “People who . . .” on the list instead of “the ability to . . .” I don’t think there’s anything wrong with recognizing that something might be valuable to have. The evil of envy is when I let it separate me from others because I feel inferior to them.
My goal, then, is to make my peace about the things I’m dedicated to seeking in my life, and the things I’m not going to invest in or simply can’t have (thick hair, for example). I may not have a natural gift with children, for example, but I’ll waste no more energy on wishing I were someone who does. I can use my energy to try to teach myself to be more in the moment, more loving, when I am with them. But wishing I didn’t have to work at it just wears me down.
I think that in conjunction with my decision to renounce envy, I also should commit to noticing and enjoying the things/gifts I DO have. So maybe I’ll make another list to that effect in my next blog. (Bet you’re on the edge of your seat for that one.)
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Highlights from my vocabulary flaschards
So, you know I took the GRE a few weeks ago. To prepare, I had a couple-hundred or so flashcards of vocabulary words. I got the words from lists of words in the prep material, and also from my own reading. I included words I had always sort of thought I knew but hadn’t been sure enough of to actually use in conversation, and words whose meanings turned out to surprise me when I read them in the prep material. I thought you might want to check out some of the highlights to see if you really know as many words as you think you do. So here are some of the highlights from my eight-inch high stack of flashcards.
Words I didn’t know but should have:
recusant: dissenter, nonconformist
juggernaut: anything that draws blind and destructive devotion. Roger also tells me it is the name of certain softball bat. Don't know how I didn't know that one.
exigent: urgent
contumely: I recognized this one from Austen, but still didn’t know what it meant. It means an insulting display of contempt.
phlegmatic: apathetic, sluggish; or self-possessed, cool.
opprobrium: disgrace.
taciturn: silent, not talkative. Tacit means “unspoken.”
eponymous: giving one’s name to something.
distaff: women’s work, or pertaining to women.
scion: descendant.
panegyric: a eulogy in praise or commendation. Similarly, encomium, despite its unfortunate similarity to meconium (and if you don’t know what this is, you’ve never delivered a baby), means a formal expression of high praise.
bellicose: hostile.
sodality: fellowship.
apotheosis: means “glorification as ideal.”
recidivism: a repeated relapse, as into crime.
bucolic: pastoral.
Weird similarities and contrasts
Sedition means resistance to lawful authority but sedulity means diligence.
Impunity and impugn are almost opposites.
Venal means “open to bribery” and venial means a kind of sin that can be forgiven.
Spendthrift is someone who squanders money, and skinflint is a miser.
Turpitude means baseness or depravity; torpor means sluggishness. So torpid means sluggish, but turbid means unclear, muddled, clouded, disturbed. Turgid means swollen or tumid, or pompous and overblown.
Abrogate: to abolish by formal means. Arrogate means to claim without right. Abnegate means “to relinquish.” Abjure means to renounce or avoid. Objurgate means to denounce vehemently.
Obdurate means stubborn or unyielding.
Moribund means “in a dying state.” Mordant, however, means “caustic or biting,” as does mordacious.
Timorous means “fearful,” but temerity means “reckless or foolish daring.”
Ingenuous means “free from restraint, artless or naïve,” while ingenious means pretty darn smart. (I actually already knew this one, but I thought it was worth pointing out.)
Dissemble means to prevaricate, but disseminate means to get the word out.
Imprecate means to curse something; it is not related to implicate.
Words I thought I knew the meaning of, at least in a general sort of way, but it turns out I really didn’t. OK, before you read what I thought these meant and what they really mean, ask yourself to define them and see how you do.
extenuate: it actually means “to lessen.” Attenuate also means “to make thin or weaken.”
nonplussed: I always thought it meant something like “unimpressed,” or “unfazed,” but it means “perplexed”
facetious. I always thought this meant something like “ironic,” because the way people use it: “I was just being facetious.” But it really just means “frivolously amusing.”
quiescent: means “motionless.” I thought it meant “agreeable,” or “amenable.”
dessicated: I thought it meant “chewed up”! Really! It actually means “dried out.” I know everyone knew that but me.
iconoclast: one who opposes established beliefs. I, well, sorta thought it meant the opposite. Kind of.
laconic: I thought this meant lazy, or apathetic. It actually means “terse and concise.”
plenary: I thought it kind of meant “seminal,” or “the main one,” but it really means “full or complete.”
sanguine: another one that I thought meant apathetic, or unmoved. This one really means “cheerful, hopeful, continent.” Consanguine, on the other hand, means “related by blood.”
salient: I thought this one meant “most applicable,” but it really means “prominent.” (You can see how they’re sort of the same. Kind of.)
Saturnine means sluggish or gloomy.
Simper does not mean a little flirty pout, as I thought it did. It means “a silly, self-conscious smile.”
Craven does not mean “insane” or even “malicious.” It means “cowardly.”
Compendium does not mean a collection. It means a brief account of a subject, a summary, or an inventory. Similary, compendious means concise (ironic, I know.)
Baleful does not mean sort of helpless and woebegone. It means “full of menace, pernicious.”
salubrious has nothing to do with saliva but means “favorable to or promoting health.”
Quixotic: OK, I already knew what this one meant, but I have been mispronouncing it for years, at least in my mind. I thought it was “keeyotic,” to resemble the correct pronunciation of Quixote.
Enervate means, illogically, “to destroy the vigor of or weaken.” Seems to me that it should mean to give MORE nerve to something, not take away nerve.
Clement. Duh, I should have known this one because of “clemency.” I kept thinking of the people at the elementary school saying we could stay in for recess “in the case of inclement weather.” But I never really knew that clement means “mild, lenient, compassionate.”
Hermetic: means “completely sealed,” or “having to do with the occult sciences.” I made a big fool of myself once when someone asked me what this meant and I tried to explain what hermeneutic meant instead. (Don’t ask me to define that one today, though.)
Blandishment is not a criticism but a flattery or cajoling.
Bemused does not mean thinking, “Hmm! Imagine that!” with a little chuckle. It actually means “bewildered, confused or muddled.”
Calumny. I think I was mixing this up with calamity. It just means slander.
Torrid does not mean tempestuous and steamy, it means scorching or burning hot with sun. (Also see torpid, above.)
Desultory does not mean apathetically or lazily, it means “jumping from one thing to another; disconnected.”
Weird words, or fun words I’m glad I discovered:
homunculus: a midget.
persiflage: light, bantering talk.
obstreperous: noisily unruly, out-of-control. Surprising I didn’t already know and use this one, being the mother of four boys.
tyro: a novice or beginner.
diurnal: having to do with daytime.
sybarite: person devoted to pleasure and luxury.
bumptious: pushy.
pusillanimous: lacking resolution. Try using that one in a sentence today.
orotund: full, rich, clear voice—or, bombastic speech.
prolix means tediously long and wordy (the opposite of compendious, I guess).
mawkish: such a great word! Means “sickly sweet or sentimental.” Describes some poetry that gets submitted to Segullah . . .
ensorcell: to bewitch. Love this one!
elutriate: to purify by washing. This is just so fun to say, with a sort of breathless, Galadriel sort of accent.
Words I didn’t know but should have:
recusant: dissenter, nonconformist
juggernaut: anything that draws blind and destructive devotion. Roger also tells me it is the name of certain softball bat. Don't know how I didn't know that one.
exigent: urgent
contumely: I recognized this one from Austen, but still didn’t know what it meant. It means an insulting display of contempt.
phlegmatic: apathetic, sluggish; or self-possessed, cool.
opprobrium: disgrace.
taciturn: silent, not talkative. Tacit means “unspoken.”
eponymous: giving one’s name to something.
distaff: women’s work, or pertaining to women.
scion: descendant.
panegyric: a eulogy in praise or commendation. Similarly, encomium, despite its unfortunate similarity to meconium (and if you don’t know what this is, you’ve never delivered a baby), means a formal expression of high praise.
bellicose: hostile.
sodality: fellowship.
apotheosis: means “glorification as ideal.”
recidivism: a repeated relapse, as into crime.
bucolic: pastoral.
Weird similarities and contrasts
Sedition means resistance to lawful authority but sedulity means diligence.
Impunity and impugn are almost opposites.
Venal means “open to bribery” and venial means a kind of sin that can be forgiven.
Spendthrift is someone who squanders money, and skinflint is a miser.
Turpitude means baseness or depravity; torpor means sluggishness. So torpid means sluggish, but turbid means unclear, muddled, clouded, disturbed. Turgid means swollen or tumid, or pompous and overblown.
Abrogate: to abolish by formal means. Arrogate means to claim without right. Abnegate means “to relinquish.” Abjure means to renounce or avoid. Objurgate means to denounce vehemently.
Obdurate means stubborn or unyielding.
Moribund means “in a dying state.” Mordant, however, means “caustic or biting,” as does mordacious.
Timorous means “fearful,” but temerity means “reckless or foolish daring.”
Ingenuous means “free from restraint, artless or naïve,” while ingenious means pretty darn smart. (I actually already knew this one, but I thought it was worth pointing out.)
Dissemble means to prevaricate, but disseminate means to get the word out.
Imprecate means to curse something; it is not related to implicate.
Words I thought I knew the meaning of, at least in a general sort of way, but it turns out I really didn’t. OK, before you read what I thought these meant and what they really mean, ask yourself to define them and see how you do.
extenuate: it actually means “to lessen.” Attenuate also means “to make thin or weaken.”
nonplussed: I always thought it meant something like “unimpressed,” or “unfazed,” but it means “perplexed”
facetious. I always thought this meant something like “ironic,” because the way people use it: “I was just being facetious.” But it really just means “frivolously amusing.”
quiescent: means “motionless.” I thought it meant “agreeable,” or “amenable.”
dessicated: I thought it meant “chewed up”! Really! It actually means “dried out.” I know everyone knew that but me.
iconoclast: one who opposes established beliefs. I, well, sorta thought it meant the opposite. Kind of.
laconic: I thought this meant lazy, or apathetic. It actually means “terse and concise.”
plenary: I thought it kind of meant “seminal,” or “the main one,” but it really means “full or complete.”
sanguine: another one that I thought meant apathetic, or unmoved. This one really means “cheerful, hopeful, continent.” Consanguine, on the other hand, means “related by blood.”
salient: I thought this one meant “most applicable,” but it really means “prominent.” (You can see how they’re sort of the same. Kind of.)
Saturnine means sluggish or gloomy.
Simper does not mean a little flirty pout, as I thought it did. It means “a silly, self-conscious smile.”
Craven does not mean “insane” or even “malicious.” It means “cowardly.”
Compendium does not mean a collection. It means a brief account of a subject, a summary, or an inventory. Similary, compendious means concise (ironic, I know.)
Baleful does not mean sort of helpless and woebegone. It means “full of menace, pernicious.”
salubrious has nothing to do with saliva but means “favorable to or promoting health.”
Quixotic: OK, I already knew what this one meant, but I have been mispronouncing it for years, at least in my mind. I thought it was “keeyotic,” to resemble the correct pronunciation of Quixote.
Enervate means, illogically, “to destroy the vigor of or weaken.” Seems to me that it should mean to give MORE nerve to something, not take away nerve.
Clement. Duh, I should have known this one because of “clemency.” I kept thinking of the people at the elementary school saying we could stay in for recess “in the case of inclement weather.” But I never really knew that clement means “mild, lenient, compassionate.”
Hermetic: means “completely sealed,” or “having to do with the occult sciences.” I made a big fool of myself once when someone asked me what this meant and I tried to explain what hermeneutic meant instead. (Don’t ask me to define that one today, though.)
Blandishment is not a criticism but a flattery or cajoling.
Bemused does not mean thinking, “Hmm! Imagine that!” with a little chuckle. It actually means “bewildered, confused or muddled.”
Calumny. I think I was mixing this up with calamity. It just means slander.
Torrid does not mean tempestuous and steamy, it means scorching or burning hot with sun. (Also see torpid, above.)
Desultory does not mean apathetically or lazily, it means “jumping from one thing to another; disconnected.”
Weird words, or fun words I’m glad I discovered:
homunculus: a midget.
persiflage: light, bantering talk.
obstreperous: noisily unruly, out-of-control. Surprising I didn’t already know and use this one, being the mother of four boys.
tyro: a novice or beginner.
diurnal: having to do with daytime.
sybarite: person devoted to pleasure and luxury.
bumptious: pushy.
pusillanimous: lacking resolution. Try using that one in a sentence today.
orotund: full, rich, clear voice—or, bombastic speech.
prolix means tediously long and wordy (the opposite of compendious, I guess).
mawkish: such a great word! Means “sickly sweet or sentimental.” Describes some poetry that gets submitted to Segullah . . .
ensorcell: to bewitch. Love this one!
elutriate: to purify by washing. This is just so fun to say, with a sort of breathless, Galadriel sort of accent.
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