Ordering ducks

Get one's ducks in line

Get one's ducks in a row

Get one's ducks in order

What is it with these ducks?  I wrote recently about the title of the book "Carry the One."  But, my favorite passage was this, "She feared for someone--so very like herself at that age--who had all her ducks in order. As if there were any reliable way of ordering ducks."  In life we soon realize that getting our ducks in order might be a hopeless goal, and perhaps we are better off to let our ducks swim freely.

It also made me think about all the ways we could order ducks.  We can line them up in order, we can buy them on-line by ordering them, we can classify them into ordered categories, we can tell them what to do by ordering them around.  

I have grown weary of the phrase "herding cats" which seems to have slipped into popular usage and become a tired and vacuous phrase.  What would happen if we let our herd of cats loose on our row of ducks?  Now that might be fun.


                                                           

Carry the One

                                                    

I just finished reading a book, Carry the One, by Carol Anshaw.  The story involves the unfolding lives of several people in the years following their varied involvement in a fatal car accident. It is a good book, with some deep themes about forgiveness, responsibility, and family relationships.  But, what I want to write about is the mathematical image of "carrying the one."  The title of the book comes from the passage, "There's still this connection...Like in arithmetic. Because of the accident, we're not just separate numbers. When you add us up, you always have to carry the one."  Of course, this refers to the death that all of them carry forward in their lives, but visually I was thinking of how we denote "carry the one" in a mathematical equation--the one is always above the other numbers and smaller, almost an afterthought.  It is there to remind us that we have more to do, more to add, more in the equation than what was first written. It is not as strong or visible as the other numbers, but it is still part of our calculation. It is a device, a notation that we insert to help us in the calculation.

Not long ago I read "The Sense of an Ending," by Julian Barnes.  It is another story that incorporates mathematical images and ideas.  One of which was the question, to what extent is our life multiplicative rather than additive?  What does it mean to have a multiplicative life?  Barnes' main character feels as though he has gone through life merely adding on things, taking on roles, doing what is expected (getting married, having children, working).  In the end, he is unhappy. He feels as if he has contributed little, accomplished little.  How does that differ from a multiplicative life, one in which our acts are multiplied across time and space?  In both addition and multiplication, though, we end up "carrying the one."

What "ones" are we carrying in our lives?  What experiences or consequences become part of our life equation?

Feelings like good wines

I've been thinking of how we describe emotional states and feelings.  It seems like our vocabulary is somewhat limited.  What if we could talk about feelings the way we describe fine wines....

Instead of happy you could be "opulent"--rich, smooth and bold?
Instead of nice, someone would be "crisp"--A crisp wine is most likely simple but goes really well with a porch swing on a hot day.  What  a great way to describe a friend...

Of course, on bad days you could feel "flabby" or "minerally"---Imagine the smell of fresh wet concrete; now imagine that flavor in your mouth.  What a great way to describe a bad day....like licking wet concrete!

We could be "bright,"  "big," or "flamboyant" in our feelings.  

Some days our feelings may be complex...velvety with a hint of sadness but a finish of peace.