Tag: words

mottleheaded – adj. feeling uneasy when socializing with odd combinations of friend and family, or friends and colleagues, or colleagues and family – mixing a medley of ingredients that don’t typically go together, which risks either watering down your identity into gray much or accidentally triggering some sort of explosion.

Mixing groups of people from different situations has sometimes been a struggle for me. I’ve felt quite mottleheaded at times when I have people I work with in coaching, at Redgate, and from friends/neighbors/family. It seems that they can be very different people.

I’m sure I’m overthinking this, but I’ve rarely invited different groups of people to the same place, precisely because I do worry that someone might not enjoy the time with those others. I know I’ve felt awkward at times at horse-related things for my wife. I don’t mind and am happy to support her, even if it’s strange for me.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

fensiveness – n. a knee-jerk territorial reaction  when a friend displays a casual interest in one of your obsessions.

I think that some of us have some fensiveness about the things that we deeply care about if we worry about the friend taking a bigger interest or having more success when we do.

I know I’ve felt fensiveness when I find a new game on mobile that I might enjoy and my wife sees it and is interested. Mostly because she’s a much better gamer and puts me to shame if we were really competing.

We aren’t, but there have been times I’ve worked for a period of time to get to Level 100, and then my wife starts playing and is all of sudden 100 levels past me in a short time.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

incidental contact high – n. an innocuous touch by someone just doing their job – a barber, yoga instructor, or friendly waitress – that you find more meaningful than you’d like to admit; a feeling of connection so stupefying simple it makes you wonder if aspiring novelists would be better off just offering people a hug.

This sounds like a word Snoop Dogg would come up with.

The power of human touch is amazing. As a younger man, I would sometimes embrace touch, or shy away, thinking that touch implied romance or sexual interest. I’ve grown past that.

I am a hugger, and I like to give long hugs. Those close to me know that sometimes I’ll hold on for 10 seconds, which is supposed to have health benefits. I agree, as I can often feel a sense of relaxation if I hold on for at least 5-6 seconds. Then it feels good.

One place this has really been noticeable for me is at yoga. Often class ends with a quiet time, all the students lying in shavasana, or corpse pose. Just laying on our backs, eyes closed, lights mostly out. A few of the teachers will bring a cold, damp washcloth around for each student. Most set this next to your head on one side.

One teacher specifically puts this on your forehead, laying it gently across your eyes and forehead. She also includes a touch. A firm press down for a second or two.

I’m amazed at how that touch is so meaningful, and when I don’t get it, how I miss it. It’s definitely an Incidental Contact High.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

flashover – n. the moment a conversation becomes alive and real, when a spark of rust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers or irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you’ve built up through decades of friction.

I sometimes wonder how sad or disappointed (or angry) the authors or this dictionary are at the world.

I don’t get too insulated with irony, but I do have flashover moments when I suddenly become interested in a conversation. It can be with a customer, when they have a cool problem, or they see some excitement in how they might adopt DevOps.

It can be with friends or family, when I hear them tell me something wonderful about their life.

It’s a cool feeling when you might be half paying attention to a conversation, or you feel like you’re having small talk, and all of a sudden you get excited or interested, more invested, in the chat.

I love that.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows