[TIME OUT FOR PARENTAL BRAGGING: He hit a home run. He is awesome. OK, BACK TO BUSINESS]

We pulled up at a red light behind a Toyota with a Darwin fish on the back bumper.

Photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeremymiles/favorites/

“That is excellent,” he said. (My son is all about science.)

“Have you never seen that before?” I asked.

“No, I’ve only ever seen the Jesus fish ones, but that is great. It must really irritate fundamentalist Christians, though.”

“It might,” I said.

Then, struck by inspiration, I said, “Hey, I should get one of each.”

“Oh, right. ‘Cause you’re all science and story.”

“Yes! Faith and science.”

“People would just think that there were two people in the house who couldn’t agree, so they got one of each.”

“Hmmm . . . You could be right.”

My son had hit on the key issue.

He’s right. People would assume conflict. We’re still shaking off the age of reason, so people would assume these two ideas to be incompatible. It’s still a reflex in our society to separate faith and science, when they are really comfortably complementary.

More and more scientists speak openly about faith without fear of being called looney-tunes for their beliefs. More and more people in churches, temples or mosques reject calls for blind faith.

Now I think I will get a Darwin fish and a Jesus fish.

I’ll place them on my car so they kiss each other.

Good looks? Athletic figure? Thick wallet? Steady job?

All of the above?

According to some marriage experts, the qualities we should seek are faith and perseverance.

I went to a wedding on the weekend. The bride and groom chose John 2:1-11 as one of their scriptures: the wedding feast at Cana. The story of Jesus turning water into wine is one of the most famous biblical passages. (It also gave great hope for a really enjoyable feast to all the wedding guests gathered there.)

The officiate at the ceremony was a family member of the bride, so he prepared lovingly for the day. During the weeks before the ceremony, his work as clergy took him to several communities of senior citizens (the marriage experts I referred to earlier). What he heard from seniors who had been married 40, 50, 60-plus years, was this: the best is saved for last.

A marriage begins with a joyous celebration of feasting and toasting. Then, the decades bring lean times or bleak times when it becomes possible to believe that the wine will run out. The secret to lasting marriage is the faith to foresee renewal and transformation, and the perseverance to hang in there for the high quality wine.

When I was a kid, everyone wore thongs in the summer: to the beach, to school, even to church sometimes. Mind you, thongs then looked like the picture to the left.

Over time words change in meaning. “We had a gay time on our cruise” had a different meaning in 1950 than it does today. Thong is one of those words. Today, thong means something completely different (no, I’m not putting in a picture) and people under a certain age have never heard the previous meaning. My husband still hasn’t adapted to the new use of thong, and often uses it to refer to flip-flops. This prompts looks of astonishment on the faces of my kids’ friends when he roams around the house looking for his footwear and calling out, “Has anyone seen my thongs?” Hilarious.

Rubberboat

I was an exchange student in Mexico when I was a teenager. One day the Spanish-speaking girls in my class pointed to a picture of an inflatable raft and asked me what the word for it was in English. “Rubberboat,” I said. They burst into laughter. “What?” they said. “Rubberboat,” I repeated. They fell apart all over again. “Say it again,” they said. “Say it again.” Every time I said ”rubberboat,” they could not contain their laughter.

Think about it. Say it out loud to yourself. You can see how it would sound ridiculous to someone unfamiliar with our language. Rubberboat. It’s funny.

Gobsmacked

I love this word. It’s so visual and carries such clear meaning. When someone uses this word, you can visualize the recoil reaction to shocking news. The gob of shocking news hurls through the air and, smack, hits the person. Recoil. Love that.

Lollipop

My daughter offered this one, and I agree. Lollipop is just fun to say. The ”lolli” loiters on the tongue in a rolling ell kind of way, and then you pop the last syllable. You could say lollipop, but why would you when you could say lolliPOP.

Pickle

I read somewhere that comedians use words with a “k” sound, because they are funnier than other words. The word pickle makes me laugh, and maybe the “k” has something to do with it. The pop of the “p” followed by the “k” just sounds funny. Also, when someone is “in a pickle” it usually means a person has put themselves in an awkward situation because of a poor choice. Usually we (a) have made the same mistake ourselves, or (b) we imagine we would make the same mistake under similar circumstances, so we empathize.  ”Oh, that person is in a pickle,” we say, shaking our heads.  We chuckle.

Ruffle

I wonder who the first person was to use the word “ruffle.” What prompted the word, and did he/she immediately realize it was the perfect word? It so aptly suits what it describes. Again, it’s visual. You see the flounciness of whatever it describes. It’s auditory, too. When feathers ruffle, you hear the disturbance.

This word sticks with me, too, because of Margaret Laurence. In her great book, The Stone Angel, she describes a character named Arlene as being ”all ruffles.” Arlene is not a common name, so when I come across a character with it, I take it rather personally. Arlene, all ruffles? I’ll tell you, my feathers ruffled over that.

Those are my fun words. What are yours?

This post is dedicated to Ross Armstrong who returned to a place called love on Saturday.

He will be remembered by many as the person who greeted them at Trinity United Church.

I went to see Johnny Reid in concert in Ottawa on Saturday night. I wrote about Johnny in two earlier posts, Today I’m gonna try and change the world,  and A place called love  Since I’m not a diehard country music fan, that’s remarkable. But there’s something about Johnny Reid . . .

On Saturday, mid-concert, he slowed things down. Talking to the audience he said when he dies he wants to leave behind “the best of” himself. For him, the best is the song “Today I’m Gonna Try and Change the World.” According to Reid’s song, changing the world can be as simple as greeting a neighbour with a smile, or shaking the hand of a stranger.

A neighbourly greeting, a smile, or a handshake with a stranger can change the world.

When we greet people with a friendly smile, our core message to them is, “You are valuable.” When we shake the hands of a stranger, our core message is, “I’m curious about you. Tell me, so I can understand.”

When we are on the receiving end of those greetings and handshakes, it affects us. For that moment, we know we are valuable. For that moment, we know we are interesting and worth knowing. When we feel valuable, it’s easier for us, in turn, to greet people with a smile. When we feel interesting and worth knowing, it’s easier for us, in turn, to shake hands with a stranger. It’s easier for us, in turn, to affect others.

And so on, and so on, and so on . . .

When someone shows us our value, we remember them forever.

Thank you, Ross. You were one of my favourite people, and I will never forget that you showed me my value.

Filed under: good faith, How do you define success?, Inspiration, Living life to the fullest, spirit Tagged: A Place Called Love, Johnny Reid, shaking hands, Today I'm Gonna Try and Change the World" ]]> http://scienceandstory.wordpress.com/2012/05/15/changing-the-world-with-our-greetings/feed/ 4 scienceandstory 2012 Habitat Bolivia 070 http://scienceandstory.wordpress.com/2012/05/11/2-beauty-tips-for-mothers-day/ http://scienceandstory.wordpress.com/2012/05/11/2-beauty-tips-for-mothers-day/#comments Fri, 11 May 2012 09:52:44 +0000 Arlene Somerton Smith http://scienceandstory.wordpress.com/?p=2520 ]]> Earlier this week I received a message from Emjayandthem’s Blog. The title: Beauty Tips.

I clicked on it expecting lipstick advice or wrinkle reduction tips. Instead, I read four words:
Smile often. Laugh Hard.

Save money on expensive makeup and so-called beauty creams. Everyone is beautiful when smiling or laughing. Even the convulsive snort-through-the-nose laughter is beautiful.

May you create lots of beauty on Mother’s Day.

(Click on Emjayandthem’s Blog to see the Josh Turner “Why Don’t We Just Dance” music video included. It’s fun.)

Graham was retired from the Canadian Navy, and it was his wish to have his ashes committed at sea. We did so after the annual Battle of Atlantic commemoration ceremony in Halifax harbour on Sunday morning.

When the navy prepared his ashes for the committal, they placed a dime on the corner of the box. It is naval tradition to send the dead off with a coin to pay Charon, the ferryman from Greek mythology, to carry him across the river Styx.  Our Canadian navy uses the coin with the ship on it, of course—our dime, or what they call the “Bluenose coin.”

I hadn’t thought about they ferryman or Greek mythology before the ceremony, but I found the Bluenose coin to be beautiful naval ritual of comfort.

At times of death, humans seem to need rituals of comfort.

My father was a Mason, and when he died, the members of his lodge held a separate small ceremony. I don’t remember all the specifics of what each person did when they stepped up to my father’s coffin, but they all ended their time with him by pointing up. I presume it was their wish that “up” was the direction he would go. If you were to ask me where I believe people go when they die, I wouldn’t say “up.” I might say “around,” or “among.” But it gave my father’s friends comfort to point up, and that’s all that matters.

I’m not Catholic, but I have many close family and friends who are.  I have stood at funeral homes many times while Hail Marys have been said over the coffin. I can see that this small ritual brings comfort to those reciting and to the family present. When I die, I won’t have formal Hail Marys said over my body, but if it brings comfort to my Catholic family and friends to whisper a few, I hope they will.

At a memorial service for my 103-year-old friend a month ago, we released colourful helium balloons printed with the words, “Bon Voyage.” The colourful balloons (again going “up”) were a joyous ritual of comfort for us.

When I die, if I have lived at all well, my service will be filled with Muslims, Christians, Hindus, atheists, agnostics, humanists, and every other faith or non-faith. Each of them will need a different ritual for comfort. May I be sent off with balloons, dimes, Hail Marys, pointing fingers, and a collection of many other small rituals to help each person get through the day.

Hallelujah to that. (Although, to be fair, runners have been telling us that for years.)

Chown’s book was full of other intriguing possibilities, too.

Some men (and some women) will be pleased to know that every breath you take could contain an atom breathed out by Marilyn Munroe. People working in the penthouse suites of tall buildings will learn to their chagrin that we age faster at the top of a building than at the bottom. It’s also interesting to know that a cup of coffee weighs more when it is hot than when it is cold.

My favourites, though, are these:

• Atoms are mostly empty space. Without all the empty space, the entire human race would fit in the volume of a sugar cube.

So much for needing personal space.

• If we were able to catch up with a beam of light, we would see a stationary electromagnetic wave. This is impossible. (According to some complex equations worked out by James Maxwell.) Since seeing impossible things is indeed impossible, we could never catch up with a light beam. 

Infinite, elusive light. It reassures me to know that something out there can’t be captured, tied down and made to conform.

It makes me wonder what else might have the same elusive quality?

“As a science writer I am constantly amazed by how much stranger science is than science fiction, how much more incredible the Universe is than anything we could possibly have invented.” —Marcus Chown

A man was laying brick one day when he looked up into the sky to see a crow chasing a hawk.

The crow was cawing and trying to peck at the hawk’s tail feathers. The hawk was tormenting the crow, allowing him to get just oh so close and then with a great swoop of his wings he’d soar out of sight. This carried on for some time.

Finally, the man saw the crow spiralling out of the sky in a dead fall. The crow had exhausted himself and died. He hadn’t known when to quit.

In today’s society, a decision to stop doing something is not always looked upon kindly. We call it “quitting,” and we mutter about “letting others down” or “not living up to expectations.”

Sometimes giving up is about saving ourselves, before we exhaust ourselves and die.

“Todos tenemos 2 dilemas: cuando empezar y cuando parar.”

“We all have 2 dilemas: when to begin and when to stop. “  —Paulo Coelho

This morning I read in the paper about a University of British Columbia study that showed that faith diminished after study subjects performed analytical tasks, or looked at Rodin’s “The Thinker.”

These are timely for me, because I spent last weekend in a Healing Pathway workshop. Think Reiki, with scripture thrown in. So, I spent my weekend working with something I could not see or measure.

Now, I am someone who insists on having one hand on tangible science while the other explores the divine. When I don’t have something solid to hold onto in the one hand, it creates some apprehensions and discomfort.

Most times a healthy balance is in order. It’s not wise to launch ourselves into airy-fairy ethereal worlds without ever touching down. But I don’t believe it’s wise to ground ourselves too thoroughly in the science either, for it would deprive us of gifts of intuition.

I couldn’t see or measure what was going on over the weekend, but I could feel it. In fact, I was left trembling by it.  I decided at the end of the weekend that I had to let go temporarily of my need for the solid facts on the science side of the equation. Science just isn’t there yet, but I believe it will be some day. Should I deny myself extraordinary experiences in the meantime? Nope. So, out of my weekend experience, this poem came through me to you.

And my message to science is this: Catch up, will ya? Find the way.

The Way

© 2012 Arlene Somerton Smith

A tree waits in a mid-summer field,
shimmering elm arms stretched wide,
refuge

A speck blooms on the golden horizon,
takes the silhouette of a man,
slow

He stumbles to the gnarled grey trunk,
breathes deeply of respite and rest,
slumps

Knees drawn up, head cradled and rocking,
soul carved hollow by pain,
waiting

A figure long of robe materializes,
neither male nor female,
cosmic

At a distance the figure waits and watches
for we must ask, that is
the way.

The man looks into eyes that hold infinity,
reaches out his trembling hand,
“Please.”

Palm to palm, light radiates through the pair from
the sire universe and the birthing earth,
aglow

The man unfurls with peace and power,
receives the healing, for that is
the way

When the light retracts, hands release,
the long-robed figure recedes,
vapour

The man trembles, rises, re-arms,
resumes his journey on his path,
doubting

Along the road he meets a friend. Smiling,
and curious the friend asks, “Who was that
stranger?”

Shrugging, “Oh, that? That was nothing.”
He turns. The tree and the long-robed figure,
imperceptible

Uneasy, two men continue down their road,
laughing and clapping each other on the back,
analyzing

But a tree and a figure wait in a mid-summer field,
when needed you will see them, for that is
the way

Have you really led the full life as an example that you would want others to lead?

Has your love, support and friendship made a difference to others?

Are you good with how you will be remembered?

According to Paul Copcutt, those are the questions we should really be asking ourselves.

A few years ago I attended a workshop on “Personal Branding” at a Canadian Authors Association conference. I was so engaged by the insights and the authenticity of the workshop leader, Paul Copcutt, that I signed up for his e-newsletter. I have received useful advice from him over the years about networking, branding and achieving goals. A little over a year ago, I became one of the people who shared distantly in the story of his cancer journey.

Last week, he published an article entitled “Why cancer is an integral part of my personal brand.”

He found that when lives take an unexpected sharp turn as a result of cancer, people ask themselves the three questions above. When people asking those questions don’t like the answers they come up with, they know they have to make some changes.

Might be not a bad idea to ask those questions now instead of later, right?

As Paul says, if you are feeling unfulfilled, unsure, underappreciated, undervalued, even underwater, it might be a good idea to give your life a sharp turn that you direct for yourself.