Happy Word Nerd Wednesday! This month’s word story is about a lovely person named Sylvia.
Sylvia, Siv to her friends, is an easy-going woman, friendly and enjoyable to be around. She’s at a party with her friends when she sees a lady whose dress tag is flipped out, sticking out along the back of her neckline. Casually strolling over to her, Siv introduces herself and offers the lady a hug. She quietly tells her the tag is sticking out and tucks it back in for her before releasing the other woman from the hug.
Two of Siv’s friends watch the exchange, smiling at her considerate, discreet style. “So un-obvious,” says one of them. “So true to Siv.”
“Un-obvious, true to Siv” = unobtrusive (un-ub-TRU-siv), meaning inconspicuous or discreet. By quietly and covertly fixing the problem, Siv behaves unobtrusively, sparing the other woman embarrassment.
It’s a wonderful thing when one person helps another without calling attention to the problem. It’s especially beautiful to see two women helping each other in a world that loves pitting one woman against another and obsessing over any fashion misstep.
Siv doesn’t have to help the other woman in our story. After all, she doesn’t even know her. But when she sees another woman in need of help, she acts—artfully, discreetly, in a way that uplifts the other woman instead of pushing her down.
She’s a rare jewel, that Siv, and even though she’s fictional, she inspires me—to be bolder, to step up when I see a need, and most of all, to be ready to act as the discreet, problem-solving friend every person needs at some point in their lives.
(I’m making the executive decision to push Word Nerd Wednesday to next week in favor of sharing pics from my vacation last week.)
I love the beach. I don’t just mean, “Why yes, it is a rather lovely vacation spot.” I mean I love the beach. I’ve been told by the human who knows me best that no one loves the beach as much as I do. Which is both happy and sad. (Happy: I win! Sad: what is wrong with everyone else??)
Once a year, my human and I try to spend some time at the beach so that my soul doesn’t shrivel and die. (You think I’m being dramatic. I am not.) I have to see it. At least once a year, I have to see it, and the moment we arrive, I fly out of the car and down to the water to say hello. Everything else can wait.
There’s simply no place on earth where I am more at home than on a North Carolina beach. With my feet in the water, staring out at the ever-shifting waves, I feel like I can fully breathe, like every inch of me is at complete peace, resonating perfectly with the rhythm of the waves.
I love how much the water changes, from blue to green to gray, the way the fading sunlight stains the breaking edges pink. It’s never the same, from one day to the next, from one second to the next.
And on most NC beaches, you get the bonus of lovely views west across the sounds or waterways, including gorgeous sunsets.
Even my hair is happier at the beach. Who cares if it’s tangled, it smells like the salt air.
And just when I think the ocean couldn’t get more beautiful, a storm rolls in, providing the most dramatic views.
We were even gifted with a late night storm, lightning streaking across the water, brilliant flashes against inky darkness. Whether it’s sunny or stormy or cloudy, the ocean never fails to be beautiful and dynamic.
No matter what happens in my life—the good, the bad, everything in-between—I always know I’ll find my peace by the ocean.
When I am gone, and am no more, rest me here upon this shore.
Release me unto the sea, and know I’ll be forever free.