Punctuation Points and Grammar Matters

A good writer knows their tools; punctuation marks each have a specific purpose - use them wisely!

Each mark of punctuation matters, just as each word must be chosen as uniquely qualified for its position in the writing. Notice how I said "their"" in that first sentence, whereas older grammar purists might have chosen "his or her" or even just "him" to refer back to the subject. Using "their" makes a definitive statement against sexism and provides a clear example for readers who seek clarity in expression, who run from ambiguity, but who also embrace a modern usage which reflects a changing culture. Each writer needs to use English in the way that reforms the world and molds it into their mental image of perfection.

Change

This post is not about writing, per se. It is written for a friend.

I hear you say, "fear" is what you feel, most of the time, and I feel for you. I'm writing this little story for you. For change.

Get ready to change.

It is so hard to drop the history and step off in a new direction to try some different way to live your life, but it is worth a shot. For starters, select a new mantra to replace the old "I feel fear most of the time." Be prepared to say, "I feel creative most of the time" (or 'I feel calm' or 'open to new experiences most of the time,' or choose something else to try). Anything will do, as long as it is more acceptable to you than "fear" and it is something you can visualize and you might like to see as a real part of yourself, an integral part of your identity. You can always try a new mantra later if this one doesn't work out.

Now, you can be on the lookout for "fear," and every time you see it coming, or see that it has already arrived, face it straight on. Examine it closely. Make sure it is really an instance of the "fear" you would like to see disappear from your life.

Your hands are strong. The "fear" is beginning to look a lot like a single sheet of white paper. You see the "fear" floating and taunting you, a piece of paper swirling in the air, swirling and flying all around you. It is teasing you with the horrible words it has written on it, but you suddenly recognize that it is really quite harmless. It is merely a piece of paper, and you needn't read the words on it, because you already know what they say, and those words are an old story that now bores you, as it is irrelevant to your new life.

You break out in a smile when you finally see that this little ridiculous piece of paper, the one that boasted that it had a hold on your heart and mind, is just a flimsy little sheet of plain old paper! How easily you have crumpled up sheets of paper - just like this one - many, many times before in your life, when you recognized that their usefulness as a paper messenger for someone long ago was already spent, and these papers were taking up space in your environment, and you knew you would never need them again. You felt so free, free to crumple up those old receipts and bills and letters and all the other papers. There were papers full of advertising for products you would never buy and junk mail for companies desperate to get your attention. They all tried to impose themselves on you - but you wouldn't let them, because you knew you had other things to do with your life other than hold onto worthless pieces of paper. You threw them out, with no regrets.

Now, you are staring at one sheet of paper that has "fear" written all over it. This paper is here with you, in the air, and it seems to have a mind of its own. It is fluttering around. But you discover that it is easy for you to chase as it flies around your head. You swipe it out of the sky with one hand. You hold it still. As it struggles to fly, you find it easy to keep it grounded and close to you. It is under your control.

Now, you remember how strong you are, compared to a piece of paper, and you decide to use both hands firmly on that piece of paper, to put it in its proper place, most likely the trash can. Imagine yourself squashing that annoying piece of paper into a little ball, as you would ball up any torn, empty envelope or old receipt, just before you toss it into the garbage.

Now imagine where you are going to toss it - you have decided against throwing it in the trash. Your squashed up, now-harmless, ball of "fear" will be going away permanently, to be dropped by you into a bottomless pit, a chasm, from which it can never return. There is a safe place for you to stand at the top of the chasm, with a pretty tall concrete wall at the edge of the chasm, a protective wall that leaves you in no danger of falling, but is not quite so tall that you cannot see over it. You stand right next to the wall, but you deliberately turn around a hundred and eighty degrees and face yourself away from that bottomless pit, looking in the opposite direction, but you keep your back against that strong wall. Now, when you crumple up "fear" and toss it, backwards over your shoulder, and it falls down, down, down into that chasm, it cannot escape. It is gone, gone forever.

You have actually chased, caught, captured, crumpled, and tossed into the bottomless chasm the first of your recognized instances of "fear." This feeling, that you have succeeded in eliminating a single "fear," is exhiliarating, and different. It makes you all of a sudden experience many different emotions at once, emotions that you previously had no room for, since "fear" was front and center in your life.

You begin to explore these other emotions, and find that they are not as unusual or as scary as you thought they might be. They are actually easier to manage than "fear."

I hope you enjoyed this game. Playing it will help to change your focus, to distract you from "fear," and when you play you will find that there is a huge void in your life where "fear" used to hang out.

Now, you must fill that void with something else. If you have nothing else to fill it with, start with a single blade of grass, plucked by you from a luxurious lawn, as you are enjoying a day in the sweet sunshine of early spring. There are more blades of grass where that one came from, and each is softer and lovelier and sweeter smelling than a piece of paper.

Basho's "Old Pond"

old pond
a frog jumps
the sound of water

Though it does not follow the traditional "5-7-5" syllable structure, "Old Pond" is the poem most often cited as an excellent example of haiku. Basho wrote his three-line poem hundreds of years ago as a series of Japanese characters created with painted brush strokes. In any language, a haiku is short, meant to be spoken aloud within the duration of a single breath. A traditional English haiku is a non-rhyming poem in three lines, expected to contain 5, 7, and 5 spoken syllables, respectively, though ultimately it is artistic expression which trumps numeric precision in syllable count. The feeling of haiku is the same in any language, expressing a beautiful thought heightened by the inclusion of contrasting poetic elements, which stimulate the reader to intense creative reflection on the poem's meaning. "Old Pond" is a favorite because of the feelings experienced by the reader as he contemplates the scene set by the poet and because of the surprising action which occurs. In the first line of the poem, the reader is drawn into the scene and finds that all is very still and peaceful. The reader sees the old pond. He is watching the water, observing the things in, floating on top of, hovering above, and everywhere around the pond. Every phase of the life cycle is seen: new growth, old, and decay. Everything here is much the same as it has been for centuries - the feeling is of a timeless serenity. Then the observer becomes aware that there is a frog sitting nearby, and the reader continues his observations and is further drawn into the scene. He pays attention to the other breathing creature beside himself. The sudden sound of a splash brings the reader to a full awareness that something has happened to break the hedonistic reverie - the frog has leapt into the water!

The Satisfaction of Reading a Variety of Writers

Reading changes your brain. Language is so flexible that we create unique word usages, found just between pairs or groups of like-minded individuals. When we recognize instances of this shared word usage, as we converse and as we read, these help us to feel a strong bond, a particular kind of deep, human-to-human connection that we seem to get in no stronger way.

Once we get used to a particular author's style, we begin to feel like friends. In reading older, classic literature, we have to overcome the obstacles involved in learning to read the longer, flowery language of people who wrote in centuries past. We learn, and relax into the author's style, and finally come to an understanding of what it was they were trying to communicate to us. Succeeding in our task, of working hard to work through the words in front of us until we "get" what it is the author wanted to tell us, makes us feel proud to be human. We have found a person with a message and we have listened to them, truly listened to another human being. We have reached beyond the barrier of the edge of the self. We have proved that we can connect to a bigger picture, that we are one with the larger universe of mankind.

Through reading, we identify the differences created by our separations from others - the passage of time, the chasms of space, the experiences of communities isolated from our own. We cross those gulfs and establish a certain closeness with those writers. We find that we have been able to span the centuries and become familiar with people from different cultures. We are now at home with these people - formerly strangers, now friends - in a place that once seemed foreign. We have made our world a more intimate and happy place.

We can also get a sense of deep connection to others, beyond the one-on-one, by becoming a fan of a music idol or a celebrity, or a follower of a sports team, or even as a member of a church or political party. We say we are an alumnus of a particular educational institution or we faithfully watch each episode of a particular series of shows. This feeling of connection to a larger group becomes a part of our own identity. We are thrilled that we belong to a larger group of cooperating individuals, what we recognize as a civilized society. We learn the language, the activities, the thoughts and motivations of the group. We want to belong. We work at understanding them until we become one of them.

Writers create that "secret language" just between themselves and their readers, the language spoken only by the "in" crowd that they themselves have created. Readers hungrily look for clues that they are in the presence of one of their favorite writers, because they know that they are not alone - other readers who appreciate this author are here, too. When a reader comes to recognize that words have created a unique space, and they now stand as a member of the group, allowed within the coveted inner circle, it has the effect of stimulating deep-in-the-subconscious, primal feelings of connectedness. The reader belongs, to a larger group of humans who are sharing in the experience created by the author.

Reading works to give us a deep, comfortable sense of satisfaction. We are entitled to enter into the author's private space. We are one of these special people, each of whom have successfully mastered navigating this amazing environment created by the author. We have overcome the obstacles set in front of the characters, as we have learned to see the environment through their eyes. As we read a writer's words, we are as one; we are a larger group of readers who we know are out there; they are sitting beside us as we read the very same words together. We readers enjoy each other's company, as we appreciate our host, who has prepared for us this, yet another delicious word banquet.

We look forward to being invited to the next event, as we already know the password for entrance through this secret club's front door.