Confessions of a Logophile

 In Herman Hesse's Siddartha, the novel opens with the main character, Siddartha, being unsatisfied with the caliber of the religious teachings of his community. He feels as though book learning and attempting to step into enlightenment through the footsteps of others is not sufficient if he wants to experience true enlightenment. Connecting this concept of unteachable enlightenment to the 'higher consciousness' video by the School of Life, both share similar characteristics. Lower consciousness is the state we operate in everyday, where our thoughts are only consumed by worldly and materialistic thing having to do with out survival, success, etc. The neocortex is the part of the brain that deals with higher consciousness-- often, in times where we are not worried by the practical aspects and goal driven nature of the working day, like very early in the mornings or late at night right before sleep, we allow ourselves to take on a wider perspective of the world and abandon t...

  Female Generational Trauma in Immigrant Families From 2000 to 2010, almost 14 million immigrants settled in the Land of Opportunity, making it the highest decade of foreign immigration in American history. Along with this wave came not only a diverse array of individuals from various different countries, but also the settlement of hopes, dreams, and cautious aspirations for a better future, a better life (Das, 2006, pp. 249). In the United States economy especially, it seems as though the sky's the limit– from filling gaps in engineering and medical industries to starting essential establishments like restaurant chains and laundromats, no corner of America has been too far for the reach of the famed ‘melting pot’ that has cultivated over generations of immigration. These establishments have contributed to the communities that have twisted roots into hard American soil, letting culture grow through concrete like the perseverance of natural life. There have been many examples of im...

If you were told to draw a sun in elementary school, there was really only one default way to go about it. After choosing a yellow crayon, you would draw a single arc in the corner of a blank piece of paper. And there you have it—a sun. Simple. Default. Uniform. A bird, instead of having feathers and beaks and claws, became a squiggle of what looked like two half-circles stuck together. Drawing a landscape of grass became a single line of green across the page. In an elementary schooler’s eyes, everything is two-dimensional. As you grow older, however, things start to look different. Perspective develops as we graduate from two-dimensional shapes to three-dimensional figures. Now, you are no longer allowed to hide behind simplicity. When asked to draw a simple landscape now, many of us would opt to make more complex drawings, because we have all developed a unique way of processing our surroundings. There are no longer the same mandatory components that we have to check off: A sun, gra...

Humor is interesting in the sense that jokes are only funny to laugh at it in the moment— but when talked about, they don’t hold the same weight. Which is what makes funny people so interesting. How does someone master the art of making the perfect quip or connecting the right concepts in a matter of seconds to make someone laugh? It actually requires an insane amount of intelligence— which is the same reason that most of the writers on ‘The Office’ are Ivy League graduates . You may not think that a lot goes into being funny, but being funny requires a layered understanding of your audience’s social structure, divergent thinking, and recognizing intricate patterns in language and behavior. If you consider yourself a funny person, you probably don’t think you do all this, but it’s because your brain does it subconsciously. So the next time someone calls you funny, just know that they’re basically calling you a genius.  Article I came across:  https://theconversation.com/funny-...

  Word of the week: Liminal (adj.) - On the border of two things, usually two abstract things.      The usual ambience of an art museum is filled with whispers of “what do you think this one means?” and the weight of the unspoken rule that pieces are solely present to be admired from afar– meaning absolutely no touching. This is told to us by various warning signs and winding black stanchions that are forbidden to cross. Even though art supposedly has no boundaries, there is no room for sticky fingerprints and accidental food stains in the presence of million dollar canvases.       Very rarely, you may stumble upon a piece that requires the participation of onlookers to become a piece of art. One of these few and far between pieces resides in the Art Institute of Chicago, and at first glance, resembles a regular pile of candy.  Something you’d find on discount on a Sunday Costco trip, or a child's halloween spoils. “Untitled (Portrait of Ross...

Word of the week: Psithurism (noun) - The sound of wind blowing through trees and rustling their leaves. Every Saturday morning, when dawn has just begun to show herself and the world takes on a soft, muted quality, I put on my wool socks and my favorite worn hoodie to venture out into the biting air. Right in the middle of my street, there is a secret dirt path that seems to lead straight into thick greenery. Eventually, when the houses fade away, and I'm among the willows and honey locusts, and the light flows through the leaves in a way that makes me thankful that I feel the sun on my face, I am no longer a suburban teenager; but a weathered explorer on a quiet quest for hidden treasure. But truly, real treasure is the feeling my walks evoke within me.