Songs get stuck in our heads…possibly worse yet, a single phrase or two of a song. (I’m forcing myself to resist giving examples we can all relate to, such as a song from Disneyland that is so poignant, it’s nearly impossible to stop singing for days, especially if those lovely grandchildren are still piping on about multiculturalism and the size of the world.)
Similarly, a word can squirm and fidget its way to the surface, demanding to be used. I’m in just such a verbal insistence experience right now. It began last Thursday.
Feckless.
I wanted to say the word feckless. Say it out loud. Use it in a sentence. I wasn’t certain I could define it or use it correctly, but I had to say it. Was my subconscious reaching back to a word not heard or used for decades but that perfectly described my concurrent experience? Or was feckless a random syllabic urge?
I had the sickening feeling it referred to a relationship…fairly new, not romantic, but a new person in my circle.
Feckless is a fun word to say. Feckless. Less familiar than reckless. More common than neckless…after all, how many folks do you know with no neck?
A shaman sat in our kiva five years ago and proclaimed FEEeee a fun word to say. He got it from his grandson. FEEEEE, feeeeee. (Maybe more fun if you’re a lawyer or any professional who charges by the hour.)
Now that I’ve taken the opportunity to say feckless, feckless, feckless…should I trust the emergence of this semi-mysterious word as a warning to remove the ineffectual person from my close associates…or was that a comment on only the day; thus, days to come will be much better?
That remains to be seen. The individual may emerge speckless. Or may surpass the value of my necklace. Meanwhile it would be reckless of me to break the association completely checkless.
So I will check.
Wouldn’t if be cool if one could feck?