Tag: words

exulansis – n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it – whether through envy or pity or mere foreignness – which allows it to drift away from the rest of your story, until it feels out of place, almost mythical, wandering restlessly in the fog, no longer even looking for a place to land.

I try to avoid exulansis in my verbal stories, but I know it doesn’t always work. I actually ran into this recently while traveling to a volleyball tournament as a coach. I wasn’t talking with a player, but rather a parent, talking a bit about my fatigue and challenges. On the 22nd of June, as I chatted about life, I realized I’d only been home for 7 days that month.

This parent was a lawyer, primarily working in Denver and rarely traveling for work. They took vacations, but those tend to be spread out, where as this trip was my 4th of June. I realized as I tried to talk about the experience of crossing time zones and the world back and forth that this person couldn’t relate and my point was being busy and needing to catch up on chores, as well as dragging a bit at the tournament. The travel experiences across time zones weren’t really something that they could relate to.

Interestingly enough, another parent heard and asked me for some tips, as they were about to embark on 3 cities in 3 weeks for work. They didn’t have exulansis from my story.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

licotic – adj. anxiously excited to introduce a friend to something you think is amazing – a classic album, a favorite restaurant, a TV show they’re lucky enough to watch for the first time – which prompts you to continually poll their face waiting for the inevitable rush of awe, only to cringe when you discover all the work’s flaws shining through for the very first time.

I’ve felt this quite a few times, often with my kids. Usually it’s an older movie or show that I loved and I try to introduce to them. Only to realize that in my naiveite of youth, I loved it more than it deserved and ignored the shortcomings.

I also think that the cinematography and storytelling in media has improved so much over the years that many shows I loved as a kid don’t resonate anymore because the skill of media has grown.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

volander: n. the ethereal feeling of looking down at the world through an airplane window, able to catch a glimpse of far-flung places you’d never see in person, free to let your mind wander, trying to imagine what they must feel like down on the ground – the closest you’ll ever get to an objective point of view.

I snap these types of photos all the time. This was me leaving Denver for Fort Lauderdale recently:

Here was last year above Hawaii:

and leaving Melbourne:

As I fly, I sometimes think about the world below me, what it’s like from the ground, what it’s like for people who’ve walked there. Sometimes I plan to go someday and see.

Often, I know I’ll never get there.

I flew to Las Vegas a few weeks ago, and there are lots of places I could visit that I see, and some I have. However, much of the mountains above Colorado, the desert outside Las Vegas to the East, these are places I’ll never go.

But I can dream.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

astrophe n the feeling of being stuck on Earth.

Us geeks are supposed to love space, right? Science Fiction? The Moon is a Harsh Mistress? Star Trek/Star Wars/Lost in Space? The desire to travel throughout the universe?

I know I wanted to get off this planet at some point. I’m sure I hoped there would be a way to leave the Earth, hopefully as smoothly as they do in Red Thunder. I don’t see that coming anytime soon: no anti-gravity, no teleporters, no space elevators. Just heavy thrust rockets.

At this point in my life, I’m not interested. Even when we ran the DBA in Space campaign, that wasn’t something I’d have chosen to do.

I don’t have any astrophe these days.

From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows