Is God in the details? If so maybe Anna Wintour is in search of God, and not the devil incarnate!
I just read that the famous for being devilish editor is looking for a new word for 'blog'. The item implied that this was just another thing that made Anna Wintour soo evil. "The word 'blog' is ugly", she reportedly said, and so she's ordered her staffers to come up with a new word ASAPest!
Personally I like the word blog. It is to writing what clogs are to other shoes. Something uniquely shaped. A shoe but not a shoe. Then again Ms. Wintour may also loathe clogs. I respect that. I loathe flats. Whenever I see a girl in ballet slippers I stare the way drivers stare at car wrecks. Please never let that happen to me!
But what I love about Anna Wintour's desire for a new word is that it reveals a love of language, a demand for precision about language. A love of detail. And after all isn't God in the details? I suggest the word cournal to Ms. Wintour. If you happen to know her please pass it along. Cournal is for: computer journal. Also for kernel, as in kernel of an idea. Which is what a good blog is. (I'm always tempted to go for the whole ear of corn.) But if you do tell it to her and she likes it and she uses it, please tell her it is from me and that I would really would like to meet her. Now more than ever.
Because I am still trying to figure out "The Devil Wears Prada". She didn't seem that evil. I began to worry maybe there was something wrong with me. According to the Kabbalah worry is the devil. But of course you shouldn't worry about it, or the devil wins. And in this case the devil did. For me the devil often does.
Is it me or is it being Jewish? Is it possible to be a Jew and not worry? I am an optimist and so I say yes. And I have spent most of my so-called adult life working at converting my worrier nature into warrior nature. Every now and then I feel I've gotten it. A triumph! And always when I am feeling truimphant I start to worry that I am feeling triumphant and I will lose it all, which means that I have lost it all and I must begin again. High heels can be emotionally as well as physically uplifting at this point.
And so can yoga. Where I was yesterday. First, lots of warriors. Warrior 1, 2, reverse 2's. All good. Then I was laying in shavasana, corpse pose, (I consider it a great victory that I can even lay there and not worry about dying) and I noticed a great ball of worry. Despite my chanting to remove all negativity. Somehow I was able to really focus on it though. And my worry felt "fat". Hunh. I looked more closely and it was a fat old woman in a housedress. Wirey hair. Smoking. Her name was Bertha. I have always tried to be one of those people who name the parts of themselves. Never been able to. Well, ok. Results are not always immediate.
And here was big old fat Bertha. Literally sitting on my shoulder. Worrying. She was my devil. Wearing an awful shmata! My devil wears shamatas! I released her but like an ex-con committing crimes to get back in prison here she still is today. Maybe if I buy her some Prada she will behave.
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