My freshman roommate from Cornell, Mary Eldred, whom I’ve written about in The New York Times here, picks a word each year to focus on. In the past, she’s chosen the following words: connections, balance, center, grace, faith, open, and contentedness. Her word this year is light…and, as she told me, “its variations…Enlighten, Delight, Lighten Up.”
I love this idea of choosing a word to focus on for the year. I’m still pondering, wondering, thinking, investigating, and gathering information about which word I’ll choose. Another friend who’s in a Jewish values study group told me that the study partners choose one word for each week depending on what they are studying. Mary said that this “the week probably works too, but for me, doesn’t give time for all the permutations of the word to work out.”
What’s your word? Do you have a word of the week for 52 weeks? Or a word a month? What about a word a year? Send in your words. We can change our lives in little ways just by where we put our focus on. I’m writing a lot on acceptance and considering that as my word. Or faith. I love the phrase, “Keep the faith and the faith will keep you.”
Let me know what your word is and why!
- Focus: Word of the Year 2013 (shaicoggins.com)
- A Word A Week Photo Challenge – Round (suellewellyn2011.wordpress.com)
This is my second year to choose the word “Huckleberries.” It’s from “The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail,” the play that deals with the lesson Thoreau taught and learned. Huckleberries is code for a scene with Emerson’s son when they were picking huckleberries and the boy spilled them. It is my code for the lesson that nothing is ever wasted; something surprisingly good will come even from mistakes.
(English majors are kind of quirky like this…)
Huckleberries…Mmm! What exactly are huckleberries? Do they grow near where you are in Kansas or Colorado? I guess you can say, “Don’t cry over spilled huckleberries.” It is true that we learn from all our mistakes. Thanks for writing!
Huckleberries are found many place, but are abundant throughout New England. A friend had a patch on her farm in Missouri, and she made preserves that tasted like a blend of blueberries, gooseberries and raspberries, or so I thought. Their important to me, though, was not the taste but the message from Thoreau.
Thoroughly Thoreau! Good for you. Thanks for the information, Marylin.