Two daily subscriptions ping my inbox. One is an inspirational quote. I get particularly excited if the wisdom is hatched by one of the world’s great philosophers such as Dolly Parton or Mohammed Ali. Many mornings, I read these quotes aloud to Smokin’ Hot Love Biscuit over our breakfast table. He alternately supports the notion or pokes holes in the baseline concept. His reaction might relate back to how well he slept or the number of cups of coffee we have been enjoying. Either way, his response stimulates thought and banter. It’s part of how we communicate ­– a significant element of what constructs our happy.

The second email is a vocabulary lesson, offering a single serving of the recommended daily allowance for the often-unnoticed population of word nerds. Some terms are familiar, at least in root form, and others are a delicious discovery. It’s like spelunking around on a beach of letters and finding a collection of conchs. Numbers get all the cred for their vast infinity, but by golly, there’s a mass, throng, multitude of words out there too. Included in the email are examples of the word used in a sentence. I create my own as I’m hoping Sudoku isn’t the only way to fight dementia brain. 

Evanesce – (verb) 1. Pass out of sight, memory, or existence. My sentence: When Bobbie Jo piled up the shit he left behind, doused it with kerosene, and burned it to ash, everything he had ever been to her was evanesced.

Isochronous – (adjective) 1. Occurring at the same time; occupying equal time. When eating a fudge brownie topped with vanilla ice cream and chocolate drizzle, my spoon gathers the three in equal fraction, creating an isochronous party on my taste buds. Oh, the fun one can have in the creative quiet of the cerebral vortex.

Although the quote and vocab subscriptions aren’t related, I’ve started to notice that they often align in meaning. Perhaps it’s the algorithms of the internet taking over my being at a cellular level, or maybe it’s something purer and more serendipitous. Possibly the Universe understands my need to receive multiple messages in varying forms to create a sticky substance in my heart to which change might adhere. That’s the hanger I’m choosing for my belief sweater. For grinsies and my own sanity, I’m pretending that Bill Gates isn’t interested in the intricate details of my day-to-day existence, such as my protein/carb breakfast combination. And if he is, well, maybe some additional fiber will be helpful for his digestion too.

Retroject – (verb) 1. To project backwards. Realizing that nothing good comes from a person stuck in retroject, she ripped her rearview mirror from the windshield and flung it out the window, shattering glass and past. 

On the day of retroject, the quote was by Sam Waterson, “If you’re not moving forward, you’re falling back.” I don’t know Waterson’s work – but these two messages conjoined together and commanded my attention. 

Tête-à-tête (noun) 1. A private conversation between two people. Nothing like a little tête-à-tête from a real friend to bust you like a probation breaking felon driving a stolen car at a traffic check.

As I was chewing on the cud of all these words and quotes, I had a tête-à-tête text exchange with a peep in my inner circle. She has been engaged in a protracted battle with a whack job client. It’s the kind of war that belongs in a business case study. Emotional artillery has been assembled and fired. Lawyers have been retained for the drawing and quartering of contracts and conversations. It has licked and sucked at resources, sleep, and peace. The only resolution is to gather the pieces and agree to an ending that advances ahead. No more retrojective analysis, just put that baby in drive and head out on the highway. 

Dictum – (noun) 1. A short statement that expresses a general truth or principle. My inner circle friend has a simple prayer, a dictum for resolution and peace ­– move forward.

This assembly of definition, quote, and text befell isochronously highlighting my own guilt in being stuck on a hamster wheel in several current situations and conversations, weaving patterns of chaos, thereby limiting advancement toward the future. Round and round and round we go.

Unknown is one smart cookie, she said, “You don’t have to attend every argument you are invited to.”

Vertiginous (adjective) – 1. Causing vertigo – the sensation that you or the environment around you is spinning, even when it isn’t. Realizing that theses relationships were vertiginous, I leapt from the redundant loop to create my own sense of balance.

Coda – (noun) – 1. A concluding event, remark, or section. If you continue to slog in the middle, the coda remains unreachable and the lesson unteachable.

Zig Ziglar quote, “Yesterday ended last night. Today is a brand-new day.”

These ideas have swirled, churned, and eddied in my head, and their blending triggered a memory of back when I was a wee sprite of a girl riding my blue bike along the rural terrain on the outskirts of the metropolis of Carthage, North Carolina. There was a little ditty on “Sesame Street” that I loved. The lyrics went, “No left turn. No right turn. What do you do?” I sang that song at a make-shift intersection that I had created out of pinecones. I would look both ways and then zoom forward on my bike, going as fast as my five-year old legs would carry me. There was a foot brake on my blue Western Flyer, preventing back pedaling. It never occurred to me to turn around and since the song said no turns, I went straight ahead for miles and miles and miles. The past evanesced behind me. Maybe that was the point.

Sacrosanct – (adjective) 1. Too important or respected to be criticized or changed. Living with rigid expectations as though the life you have imagined is sacrosanct reveals lack of grown ass emotional intelligence, limiting your capacity for imagination and joy.

I’m a driven person. I have been my whole life. I had goals for the number of miles I would ride my bike and the number of books I would read the summer before I started first grade. I wrote those goals down and recorded my results. This characteristic is two-thirds great and one-third jacked in the head. Not everything is as it could have been or should have been, not everything can be charted out and attained. Not every ending is as imagined. All of this becomes okay if you release the governor on your control panel, especially when it relates back to other people. Life is a group activity and chances are, even if you’re large and in charge, you really aren’t.

In the words of Morgan Harper Nichols’ quote, “Fall in love with the masterpiece, and also the paint on the floor.” 

Then, move the hell forward.