What Your Words Say About You: Choose Wisely

In the English classes I teach, one topic my students and I discuss is word choice. I try to communicate to them the importance of opting for strong, specific words when they write, as well as to teach them how to analyze an author's choice of words in literature they read. For example, in their own writing, I would caution them against using words such as "awesome," "great," or "thing," and replace them with more specific vocabulary. What, exactly, made an experience "awesome"? Was it refreshing? Invigorating? Humbling? Empowering? What, exactly, made the food "great"? Was it juicy? Was it crispy? Was it savory and buttery and tongue-burningly hot?

Analyzing our choice of words in a variety of platforms reveals that for the most part, human beings are pretty upbeat creatures. 

When we discuss word choice in the literature we read, we try to ascertain an author's tone based on the words he or she uses. For example, we recently read excerpts from Thoreau's Walden in one of my classes. In an excerpt from the section called "Spring," Thoreau uses "dark," "sluggish," and "storm" in conjunction with winter. In his description of spring, he uses "bright," "hopeful," and "translucent." I always ask the students which season they surmise Thoreau favors based solely on his choice of words. They always respond with "spring."

Then of course, we discuss word choice in terms of denotation and connotation. Referring to a dog as a mutt or a cur, for example, elicits a much different emotion than referring to a dog as a puppy or a pooch. The former options suggest much more negative associations than do the latter options.

And tonight, in the 15 February 2015 edition of the Richmond Times-Dispatch, I came across the concept of word choice in a light in which I had never thought about it. The article, "In billions of words, humans keep looking on the bright side," was originally published by Bloomberg News, and relates recent research that shows that people across the globe consistently use positive words over negative ones.

"The majority of communication--in books, on Twitter, even in newspapers--is positive," the article states. Even in China, the country whose communication was found to be the least cheerful, "the 'happiness distribution' was always positive." (Spain boasted the most upbeat communication.)

Basically, analyzing our choice of words in a variety of platforms reveals that for the most part, human beings are pretty upbeat creatures.

This got me thinking. Am I a pretty upbeat creature, and would my word choices reveal that positivity (or lack thereof)? Is my own everyday word choice mostly positive, or mostly negative? Analyzing our own use of positive versus negative words could help us discern whether we are generally acting in the best interest of those around us, buoying them up, or if we are dragging them down. It could help us discern whether we generally view things optimistically, or pessimistically. If I were to analyze the conversations I have throughout the day, or my Facebook status updates throughout the week, or my journal entry from any given day, would I learn my vocabulary communicates more positivity or more negativity?

Analyzing our own use of positive versus negative words could help us discern whether we generally view things optimistically, or pessimistically.

Going forward, just as I advise my students to deliberately choose strong, specific words in their writing and to carefully consider the words they use, I, too, will carefully consider the words I use, but in a different context. Instead of attempting to use merely specific words, I will try to use sanguine word. More specifically, I will try to filter my thoughts and statements according to the positive or negative words I would need to express the idea, and re-frame my perspective so that it necessitates the use of more positive than negative vocabulary.

I do not mean to say I plan to sugar-coat all my statements from here on out. Far from it. Many situations necessitate the use of negative words. We do not always enjoy every situation we encounter. We do not always relish every food we try. We do not always appreciate everything people around us do. We do not always agree. We should not say we do, if saying so would be false. What I do mean, is that perhaps in deciding if what I am about to say is helpful or detrimental, necessary or not so much, I could use the vocabulary I would need to use to express myself as a marker. If most of the words I would require to express myself could be considered generally negative, I may want to reevaluate whether or not I should communicate this particular thought in this particular moment.

Our choice of words says more about us than we realize. The words we choose to use can say a lot about us. 

Peter Dodds, one of the researchers quoted in the article, explains, "There is a lot in the fundamental way we use language that reflects our nature. ...our social nature is encoded in our language." In essence, we are saying much more than we are saying--or rather, our choice of words says more about us than we realize. Often, we take for granted that when we say words, whatever we use them to say is exactly what we have communicated, but the types of words we choose to use can say a lot about us. What is your language--your word choice--communicating about your nature? I, personally, want the words I choose to communicate intelligence, insight, love, and warmth.

Nothing Ever Lost

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). I have often pondered this scripture when I have questions about my faith, or when I want to find the faith to pray about an issue or concern, but just can't seem to muster the focus or inspiration. I have often used this scripture as a sort of comfort--seeing in it a sort of promise that my expectations for good will be fulfilled. I once had this type of faith explained to me in terms of my dogs.

"Think about your dogs," I was advised. "They don't wonder if you'll come home this afternoon. And they don't question whether or not you'll walk them and feed them when you do get home. They just expect good. They don't ever wonder whether they will get sick or get hurt. They just expect to be happy and healthy and loved. They have faith in those things, unquestioningly. It never occurs to them that it could be otherwise."

Tonight, this scripture occurs to me in a new, practical light: as a prayer for things lost. Think about it: If we have lost something, we may certainly pray to find it again. We may ask God to reveal to us where we have lost the item. Even though we cannot see the item (it is, after all, lost), we can have faith that God, the all-knowing, all seeing Mind, knows its location. In essence, it is not lost at all. It is just unseen. In the last few months, I have had several experiences that prove that trusting our seeming losses to God brings results--that having faith in the fact that they will be found results in the fruition of that hope, that trust.

A little over a year ago, my grandparents gave me a Fitbit Zip. I had been wearing it for roughly two months, and was excited because the weekend coming up I was to run a half-marathon in Florida. I couldn't wait to see my step count after the race. Just hours before my drive to Florida, I took my dogs for a walk, my Fitbit seemingly securely attached to my pants pocket. When the dogs and I returned home from our stroll, the Fitbit was gone. Severely disappointed, I called my husband, who took it upon himself to retrace my route with our dogs that evening--to no avail. When I returned home from Florida a few days later, I, too, retraced my route in vain. Reluctantly, I gave up my Fitbit for lost. I didn't pray about it. I just stopped looking.
 
About seven or eight months after I lost my Fitbit, I lost the very nice (read: very expensive) watch my husband had given me for our five-year wedding anniversary. Absolutely convinced it would turn up, I didn't mention it to my husband for a full week. But, after a week had gone by and I had searched every place I could imagine the watch might be, I told him I had misplaced it. He, too, went on a hunt for my missing watch, searching under car seats, couch cushions, and beds. We looked in every reasonable place. No watch. Still, I had a sense of confidence that the watch would turn up somewhere random, somewhere we would never have thought to look. I didn't really pray about it, but I did expect to find it. I had faith.

But several weeks went by, and still no watch. Severely disappointed, my husband started to talk about purchasing a new one, an idea that grated on me, not only because of the expense, but also because the new watch would only serve as a reminder that I had lost the old, sentimentally valuable watch.

As my husband and I hemmed and hawed over whether or not to buy a new watch, life went on. I maintained the idea that the watch would turn up, and continued to discourage the purchase of a new one.

And then one afternoon, a few weeks later, I was out walking my dogs and I found--not my watch--but my Fitibit! It had been missing for over seven months. I had completely stopped looking for it. It had been buried in snow, rained on, possibly driven over, but as I happened to glance down during our walk--there it was, at the edge of my neighbor's yards. It was a bit scratched up, and the battery was dead, but it was intact, and when I got home and inserted a fresh battery, that little Zip still functioned.

Not only was I thrilled to be unexpectedly reunited with my FitBit, but I also took this as a sign: If I could effortlessly find my Fitbit, which had been outside, exposed to the elements, for months (and how many times had I stepped right over it in those months?), my watch really could still turn up.

And turn up it did.

One morning, feeling rushed to get to work and digging through my shoes in something of a frenzy, looking for the right shoe to match the left shoe I had already located, my watch fell out of the exact shoe I was looking for! It never would have occurred to me or my husband to go into our closet and look inside each individual shoe for my watch, but there it was. And I wasn't even looking for it specifically, just for the shoe it was hidden inside. And it had been there, safe and sound, since the day I had seemingly lost it. My faith that it would indeed turn up eventually proved substantial.

So, next time you lose or misplace something, instead of just hoping to find it, instead of just looking for it, instead of just asking God to please find it for you--pray to have the type of faith described in Hebrews 11:1, faith that is "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

Chocolate Layer Cookie-Cake with Buttercream Frosting

School has been closed for two snowy days, so today, I found a little time to try a new recipe whose ingredients have been waiting in the pantry for just such an opportunity.

The original recipe, called "layered birthday cookie," appears on page 180 of Lauren Floodgate's 500 chocolate delights: the only chocolate compendium you'll ever need. Included here is my modification, which I created to (hopefully) satisfy my husband, who isn't quite as fanatical about chocolate as I am, as well as myself. The main difference between the two, is that the original recipe includes chocolate in the frosting.

What You'll Need for the Cookie-Cake
2 sticks unsalted butter
2 cups light brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tspn. vanilla extract
3 cups all-purpose flour
6 tbsp. cocoa powder
1 tspn. baking soda

What You'll Need for the Buttercream Frosting
1 stick unsalted butter
2 cups confectioners' sugar
1 cup cream cheese
candies of your choice

What You'll Do
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two, 11-inch springform pans with parchment paper.
2. Beat cookie-cake butter and sugar together. Add eggs and vanilla extract.
3. Whisk together flour, cocoa powder, and baking soda and stir into batter.
4. Divide the dough in half, and press into prepared pans.
5. Bake for 20 minutes.
6. Remove and allow to cool.
7. As cookie-cake cools, prepare frosting. Beat butter and confectioners' sugar together.
8. Beat in cream cheese.
9. Spread frosting over the completely cooled cookie-cakes before placing one on top of the other.
10. Decorate as desired with whatever candies you wish. (I used bittersweet chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces.)

Chocolate Layer Cookie-Cake with Buttercream Frosting decorated with bittersweet chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces to reflect my husband's and my love for dogs

Pasta in a Pot

My husband and I tried a new slow cooker recipe tonight, and it was so successfully delicious, I thought I'd post it here. The original recipe can be found in Fix-It and Forget-It Recipes for Entertaining: Slow Cooker Favorites for All the Year Round by Phyllis Pellman Good and Dawn J. Ranck.

What You'll Need
2 lbs. lean ground beef
2 medium sweet onions
1 garlic clove, minced
14-oz. jar spaghetti sauce
16-oz. can stewed tomatoes
4-oz. can sliced mushrooms (I left these out)
8 ozs. dry shell macaroni, cooked al dente
1 1/2 pints sour cream
1/2 pound shredded provolone cheese
1/2 pound shredded mozzarella cheese

What You'll Do
1. Brown beef in skillet. Drain.
2. Add onions, garlic, spaghetti sauce, stewed tomatoes, and undrained mushrooms. Mix well. Simmer 20 minutes, or until onions are soft.
3. Pour half of noodles into slow cooker. Cover with half of the tomato/meat sauce. Spread half the sour cream over sauce. Top with provolone cheese. Repeat, ending with mozzarella cheese.
4. Cover. Cook on high for 2 hours or low for 3 hours.

What You'll Get
about 8 servings of a satisfying, savory pasta dish

Twenty-Five Givens

Recently, I've been pondering what makes some people capable of sticking to a workout regimen and others, not so much. I am one of the lucky ones who has absolutely no trouble sticking to a training schedule--or motivating myself to run even if I am not training for anything in particular. The first and most obvious reason is simply that I love it. I love running. I actually want to do it. It is not a chore for me, but a cherished favorite activity. The deeper reason, I realized in my recent reflections, is that I just take for granted that I will do it. It's just a fact of my day. I fit exercise into my week the way I make sure to fit in sleeping, showering, eating, or going to work. It doesn't matter if I'm tired. It doesn't matter if I have a stack of papers to grade. It doesn't matter if it's hot or cold or raining. If I planned to run today, I will. There's no question, no other option (barring, of course, illness or serious injury). This realization led me to further introspection, and I started wondering what other activities I engage in because I take for granted that I must or that I will, and wondering about that ultimately led me to compose this post.

When I first started working on this post, I titled it "The Rules I Live By." As I reflected on the values, morals, and motives that guide my actions and decisions, though, I realized they aren't so much rules, a word that can sometimes convey a negative connotation and that implies a consequence for any infraction, as they are "givens."  It is a given, for example, that I will walk my dogs every day. There is just absolutely no question about it. It's built into my every day, period--just like eating or showering or going to bed at night.

Here are the other twenty-four givens I realize I live by:

It is a given that I will...

do something outside every day
exercise in some form or fashion every day
tell the people I love that I love them
write when I can
read when I can
hardly ever watch TV
read the book before I see the movie
read a section of the Bible lesson every day
check the weather forecast (often)
keep a diary or journal
write and adhere to a to-do list
volunteer
use every moment of every day productively
go to bed early
work ahead (If it's not early, it's late.)
recycle every recyclable thing
not wash my hair every day
change the sheets every Sunday
eat dessert
eat breakfast
have faith that it will all work out
smile at people I pass
be kind
follow the rules (for the most part).

I haven't yet figured out how knowing these things about myself is actually beneficial--but it is interesting.