#I personally hope that the message or solution is something outside the binary of right and wrong but who's to say

[ellipsiseffervescent]

Of all the interpretations of Madoka's sacrifice, i find myself disagreeing with the idea that her godhood became a permanent solution/ a good ending/ an end to suffering. While magical girls no longer need to become beasts who spread misery, they are still children who are manipulated into exchanging their souls and be forced to leave the world early after being pushed to their exact breaking point. I feel that the interpretation of madokas sacrifice as a fix to the suffering of magical girls is flawed and that we see a lot of it involving sayaka. Not only her regret of leaving kyouko, and her crying when she could see her friends again at the end of Rebellion, but also Hitomi's storyline where she goes looking for her missing friend Sayaka, and as others on this site have mentioned, blames herself for Sayakas disappearance/death.

Not to mention, while the characters see this sacrifice as necessary, i also wonder how the existence of wraiths fits into this paradigm.

Granted, i see how this could be a metaphor for simply moving on in life and out of childhood, and that Homuras refusal to move on with Madoka is her struggling with letting Madoka change. But I do think that simply framing Madokas sacrifice as a solution to the suffering of magical girls is a flawed and an unnecessary binary of 'madoka is right and homura is wrong'.

Of course, the fourth movie has yet to come out, so i think we will all be disagreeing until we see the story's resolution. I personally just hope that it doesn't end with 'the demure girl next door who feels she isn't special and has no skills finds purpose in making the ultimate sacrifice of herself was narratively correct to do so'.

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, MJ! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Greta Catchlove. I’m so freaking stoked to have a Greta, and I’m certain the rest of our players are as well. I really enjoyed reading your application, especially the part you wrote about the candlelight vigil. I loved reading your perspective on Greta’s relationship (if you can call it that yet) with Glenda. I think that’s exactly how they’d have felt about the vigil and Glenda’s new message, and seeing you write them in action was really what sealed the deal.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: MJ

age: 25

preferred pronouns: they/them

timezone: GMT -6

activity: In a rating of one to ten, I’d give myself a seven, maybe an eight depending on the day. My free time starts in the evenings and nights, though my schedule can be a little unpredictable from time to time. Still, I’ll try my best to be online as much as possible.  

are you applying for more than one character?: I decided to apply for both, Greta and Emmeline. I love both of them and the reason I am applying for both, is cause I couldn’t pick a favourite. I’ll be super happy if I’m accepted for either and I might even apply for the other one in the future if I’m lucky and the character is still open.

how do you feel about your character dying?: Not gonna lie, I’m a sucker for angst and if it serves the plot, I am perfectly fine with my character dying.

anything else?: nothing to add.

ic details.

full name: Greta Catchlove

date of birth: Febraury 28

former hogwarts house: Hufflepuff

sexuality: Pansexual

gender/pronouns: Non binary, they/them

face claim change: I‘ll keep the gorgeous Indya Moore

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

They were born in a family of many, the smallest of the bunch; perhaps that was why they developed a love for the odd and unique. Being different was the only way to set them apart from those who came before them but being the eighth child didn’t left them many options so they became the odd one.

Greta enjoyed being outside and chatting with animals, they liked to walk barefoot and climb trees, enjoyed looking at the clouds and memorising the names of the stars. They wore bright colours and believed in fairytales, they found the beauty in unexpected places, fascinated by things others didn’t deemed worthy of attention.

With ease, Greta became independent, knowing that in the chaos of their home they wouldn’t always get listened to, everyone always busy with something else. They becameresourceful, adapting and figuring out clever solutions to their every day problems, finding themselves enjoying working with their hands and learning from observing the people around them. From their parents with their odd jobs, to their siblings with different interests, Greta managed to learn a little bit of everything by being observant.

Things didn’t change much when magic became part of their life, Greta still loved to learn by watching and continued to do so during their years at Hogwarts. However, despite their carefree nature, Greta still struggled to connect with people, their love for the odd always leaving them as an outsider even when they never minded it much, reserved as they were, all too used to being on their own in a crowded room.

Greta never blamed the people at Hogwarts for finding them odd and different, the teasing they received always met with a smile. Perhaps it was naive of them to believe the best in people, despite people proving that they were not all that good but they still did. They were always gentle despite being shy and at times, unsure and insecure.

Now, all grown up and in the midst of war, Greta is determined to be braver, to prove that the brutality of war can’t ever kill the beauty if the world. That despite everything, there is still hope.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

Greta has always been a little bit oblivious to the world around them. For the longest time, war didn’t seem to catch up to them, there were no scars made by the shadows of evil for they always managed to stay in the light. It was, however, after discovering what damage war caused in others that Greta began to get stained by the horrors of the situation. They felt guilty for being so blind, selfish for not seeing the suffering around them. Their rose coloured glasses now broken, they can see reality in a way they had never before.

It scares them, how terrible people can be, how much they are willing to do in the name of destruction and so, Greta is trying to compensate for the lost time. They spent days in the sun while the world was swallowed by darkness and they want to aid in whatever way they can. They are terrified of what might happen, during and after this war is done but they are willing to see it through. They still have hope and perhaps, that is what is most needed right now.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?

They were so oblivious to the war and it’s effects on the world around them that for the longest time, they remained untouched by it. Greta lived in blissful ignorance so the conflict never left scars on their body or soul. They were untouched by the darkness and when they finally looked at the chaos that the wizarding world had turned into, the guilt settled into their heart, and as they investigated more, willingly sinking into the dark waters of the unknown and horror, that guilt grew roots and they could no longer go back to the life they used to live. How could they run back to explore the world and all it’s wonders when this war was spreading like a virus, threatening everything and everyone she had ever known?

Hearing Glenda all those weeks ago was a call to join the revolution. It was the one glimmer of light in a world that seemed consumed by darkness and Greta knew that when they found the Order, they would do anything to join their ranks. The Order of the Phoenix will save us all, she had said. Greta wanted to aid that cause however possible, they wanted to save the world that had finally made her felt special in a real way, that finally made her felt seen. Greta had known hate, it wasn’t new but they would be dammed if they would sit down and let hate win.

now that Greta has found the order of the phoenix, does she feel fulfilled? what does Greta see as her next move?

For Greta, finding the Order was just the beginning. Glenda’s words engraved into their heart, they want to do so much more. They have never been too much of a fighter, preferring to walk away than face conflict but they are willing to learn. Greta is one of the few people that are not worn out, a fresh fighter to join the ranks. They want to be of service to this people that inspired Glenda, who in turn inspired them.

They want to fight, they want to bring hope to others like Glenda brought hope to them. Greta is full of optimism, they want to take back what the Death Eaters have taken from the world, they want to find Glenda more than anything and they want to be of use. In a way, Greta is looking for redemption, make up for the lost time in which they ran away without noticing. They were blind to injustice for so long that now they would do anything to right those wrongs.

extra.

Pintrest.

Candlelight Vigil:

They didn’t feel like they belong here. Not because they are not welcomed, everyone is but still, they have lost no one to this war, not really. They had no one to mourn, no words of comfort for the ones that do so, nor for the first time in their life, they feel like an outsider looking in, an uninvited guest of sorts and yet, they can’t help but made their way towards the cemetery, standing just on the outskirts, not daring to walk closer, feeling that she had no right to grab a candle.

Still, there is an ache in Greta’s heart as they watch people share stories of those who are long gone, of those who are still missing. With a sigh, they take the picture of the beautiful blonde woman from their pocket, straightening it out with their hands, being as gentle as possible. This woman whom they have never met makes their heart ache even more.

Greta knows they have no right to miss her but they still do. Part of them had hoped that when they finally found the Order, they would find her as well. They had hoped to meet her, explain her that it was thanks to her that they had felt inspired to join the fight, felt hope for the future because everyone else seemed to have lost their way. Glenda had been the light at the end of the a tunnel plagued by death and horror but she was not in Godric’s Hallow.

“I would’ve gone crazy without you.” They mumbled, biting their lower lip for a moment before placing the poster back where it belonged, in a board with many others, a reminder to those that were lucky enough to have found a save heaven that their work was not done. There were still people out there that needed them. “Thank you.” Greta said, shoving their hands on the pockets of their jacket before making their way back home. They were not needed here, not tonight. They needed to give space to those who were aching for the ones they had lost.

Hello- hello- is this thing on? And Greta froze, eyes going wide as she turned around.Fuck- It’ll have to do- I don’t have much time. With their heart racing, Greta mad their way towards the sound, towards that voice that they knew all too well. Glenda Chittock here- It’s been a while folks. Greta moved towards the radio without thinking, turning up the volume to hear better, the signal wasn’t the best but it seemed real, Glenda was there like she had been before, broadcasting for the world to hear. She was alive.

Greta listened carefully, hoping for some clue as to where Glenda could be but then…The sound of glass crashing, the click of the broadcast ending, then static. Greta stared at the radio as the silence settled in Godric’s Hollow, as everyone was holding their breath at once, hoping for something else to happen. For Glenda to come back or something else. But there was nothing.

Greta ran towards their home, heart beating fast against their chest. Glenda was alive, somewhere. The Order was scattered somewhere else, the Order’s numbers weren’t as thin as they had thought, there was hope and Greta felt it in their bones like electricity, making them smile with the promise of better days. They had found the Order once. They could do it again and again. And then, they would fight. They would win.

[apsbicepstraining]

The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate

You know that seeming you get when you’re at dinner with pals — or perhaps it’s someone you’re simply to know — and roused talk of enormous journals or new movies carries on long past the scrounging up of your meal’s last shred?

In Spanish, it’s called sobremesa , but in English there’s no direct rendition. It’s a little like eagerness, a little like a comforting expel, but Americans are likely to liken it to something broader: happy .

A recent study in The Journal of Positive Psychology revealed that, relative to other languages, English is starved for emotionally positive messages, relying instead on one large-hearted descriptor to express everything from simple amusements to the glee knew when the workday aims.

The problem with giving pleasure do all of our oral copes is that, according to some psychologists, the experience of a tendernes is often understood through the words we use to describe it. So, if our speech shortfall a particular parole, we’re less likely to experience the specific seeming attached to it.

This is a pretty good case for expanding our dictionaries beyond a single catchall adjective. Not simply could we deduce more amusement from tasks like the Norwegian utepils ( “drinking beer outside on a hot day” ), but we might be less likely to evaluate the ups and downs of most long-term affairs on such a restrictive scheme: glad versus unhappy.

English is starved for emotionally positive texts, relying instead on one large-scale descriptor to enunciate everything from simple gratifications to the hilarity suffered when the workday ends.

The first time I fell in love , I wasn’t joyous . Not precisely.

I was sitting on the floor of a friend’s dormitory room been speaking with indefensible assertiveness about the likely outcome of the 2008 Republican primaries when I was interrupted by a insolent neighbour. Overhearing me, he butted in to kudo Mike Huckabee. A Hillary backer, I was appalled .

I did notice, however, that he wore his blonde hair in these greasy, unwashed tufts that belied his fad alternatives, who the hell is literally straight-laced and buttoned-up. I was intrigued .

When everybody else on our floor invested Mondays gulping cans of Lone Star while watching “Flavor of Love, ” he remained holed up behind his table investigating differential equations. I asked him to explain his homework to me; he chortled and told me that it’d perhaps be lost on a “word person, ” but he could try. I was intimidated .

Slowly I learned through these wild formulas that arriving at a specific judgment isn’t ever the quality; a problem can be both chaotics and terminated. That a few questions could have multiple answers, or no response at all, pushed against my comfortable minds about “the worlds”. But I was determined , because I was smitten .

When he agreed to a lunch appointment, a skipped class, a camping excursion, I was flattered . When we invested pulls of long, lazy Saturdays swimming in a shadowy, private discern on Town Lake, I felt giddy . When we moved my books and his messy stacks of hoarded newspapers into an suite off campus, I felt hopeful , much to the chagrin of my “word person” acquaintances. When those pals asserted that he was pompous and awkward, I was defensive , but when I stopped appreciating them as much, I was ashamed . What was all of this for? Was I even glad ?

Influenced by the binary proliferated by concerned mothers and self-help shelves everywhere, I set out to lieu my first, messy rapport into one of two nifty columns: glad or unhappy .

This supposed number of self-betterment only muddied circumstances further. Was the find I got after resolving an unnecessary wrangle happiness ? What about the entertaining air of mystery that hung all over the kitchen table at 2 a.m. when we sat together, silently scribbling away at separate questions? That was something; objectivity without loneliness.

But without a word for the affection, it was less valuable to me than those I was able to describe pithily.

So why do so many beings — Americans in particular, it seems — preserve returning to the incomprehensible seek of happiness, rather than redefining their excitements in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

I was, of course, very young . But the conundrum exists in its own language we use to describe adult affairs, too. Psychologists don’t agree for purposes of determining whether the words we use determine our affections or vice versa, but when certain negative adjectives are foremost ( fulfilled , captured , noncommittal ), while others are nonexistent, it’s easy to see how person or persons would shepherd her spirits into a preexisting descriptor, like joyous .

The problem arise where the same nebulous parole is used to describe both uncommon moments of euphoria and the various kinds of sustained thought of satiation we’re told sought for. Happiness can come from physical fitness, destination fulfillment, spontaneity, and myriad other things, but ideally all of them concurrently. That’s a heavy consignment for a single word, or a single relation, to permit.

In addition to being maddeningly ambiguous, joyous is somehow also too specific. It has contributed to appraise, to judge, to determine whether a cognitive state and the circumstances contributing to it are good or bad. This won’t do to summarize the complexities of an individual, let alone the see and bonding of two, over any amount of season other than a lovely, strong instantaneous — like a first kiss.

So why do so many parties — Americans in particular, it seems — prevent returning to the incomprehensible pursuing of merriment , rather than redefining their feelings in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

According to The Journal of Positive Psychology study, it might be since we are simply don’t have the right statements at our disposal. Aiming to “enrich our emotional landscape, ” the authors gathered 216 terms with no direct English translation. All positive, they describe rapports, experiences and persona in specific ways that English precisely can’t.

A survey of the happiness-related texts reveals that while the sensitive is framed in English as a point sought for, most other languages refer joy to luck, and uncontrollable good fortune. Furthermore, greater nuance is applied to the experience of joy in many other languages; linguistically, its a colorful, multi-faceted spectrum. In German and Spanish, the amusement is coming from food is distinct from psychological atonement. In Thai, sabsung “signifies being regenerated through something that livens up one’s life”; In Balinese, rame describes “ something at once chaotic and joyful.”

Had these terms been at my dumping, I might’ve stopped trying to describe my first, messy relation utilizing monotonou, insufficient terms. Or, had I truly listened during my( restriction) math lessons, I would’ve acknowledged years ago that if prosperity is “x, ” “x” doesn’t ever have an intrinsic cost, a unique solution. Sometimes, the outside variables to weigh are infinite.

The post The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate

You know that seeming you get when you’re at dinner with pals — or perhaps it’s someone you’re simply to know — and roused talk of enormous journals or new movies carries on long past the scrounging up of your meal’s last shred?

In Spanish, it’s called sobremesa , but in English there’s no direct rendition. It’s a little like eagerness, a little like a comforting expel, but Americans are likely to liken it to something broader: happy .

A recent study in The Journal of Positive Psychology revealed that, relative to other languages, English is starved for emotionally positive messages, relying instead on one large-hearted descriptor to express everything from simple amusements to the glee knew when the workday aims.

The problem with giving pleasure do all of our oral copes is that, according to some psychologists, the experience of a tendernes is often understood through the words we use to describe it. So, if our speech shortfall a particular parole, we’re less likely to experience the specific seeming attached to it.

This is a pretty good case for expanding our dictionaries beyond a single catchall adjective. Not simply could we deduce more amusement from tasks like the Norwegian utepils ( “drinking beer outside on a hot day” ), but we might be less likely to evaluate the ups and downs of most long-term affairs on such a restrictive scheme: glad versus unhappy.

English is starved for emotionally positive texts, relying instead on one large-scale descriptor to enunciate everything from simple gratifications to the hilarity suffered when the workday ends.

The first time I fell in love , I wasn’t joyous . Not precisely.

I was sitting on the floor of a friend’s dormitory room been speaking with indefensible assertiveness about the likely outcome of the 2008 Republican primaries when I was interrupted by a insolent neighbour. Overhearing me, he butted in to kudo Mike Huckabee. A Hillary backer, I was appalled .

I did notice, however, that he wore his blonde hair in these greasy, unwashed tufts that belied his fad alternatives, who the hell is literally straight-laced and buttoned-up. I was intrigued .

When everybody else on our floor invested Mondays gulping cans of Lone Star while watching “Flavor of Love, ” he remained holed up behind his table investigating differential equations. I asked him to explain his homework to me; he chortled and told me that it’d perhaps be lost on a “word person, ” but he could try. I was intimidated .

Slowly I learned through these wild formulas that arriving at a specific judgment isn’t ever the quality; a problem can be both chaotics and terminated. That a few questions could have multiple answers, or no response at all, pushed against my comfortable minds about “the worlds”. But I was determined , because I was smitten .

When he agreed to a lunch appointment, a skipped class, a camping excursion, I was flattered . When we invested pulls of long, lazy Saturdays swimming in a shadowy, private discern on Town Lake, I felt giddy . When we moved my books and his messy stacks of hoarded newspapers into an suite off campus, I felt hopeful , much to the chagrin of my “word person” acquaintances. When those pals asserted that he was pompous and awkward, I was defensive , but when I stopped appreciating them as much, I was ashamed . What was all of this for? Was I even glad ?

Influenced by the binary proliferated by concerned mothers and self-help shelves everywhere, I set out to lieu my first, messy rapport into one of two nifty columns: glad or unhappy .

This supposed number of self-betterment only muddied circumstances further. Was the find I got after resolving an unnecessary wrangle happiness ? What about the entertaining air of mystery that hung all over the kitchen table at 2 a.m. when we sat together, silently scribbling away at separate questions? That was something; objectivity without loneliness.

But without a word for the affection, it was less valuable to me than those I was able to describe pithily.

So why do so many beings — Americans in particular, it seems — preserve returning to the incomprehensible seek of happiness, rather than redefining their excitements in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

I was, of course, very young . But the conundrum exists in its own language we use to describe adult affairs, too. Psychologists don’t agree for purposes of determining whether the words we use determine our affections or vice versa, but when certain negative adjectives are foremost ( fulfilled , captured , noncommittal ), while others are nonexistent, it’s easy to see how person or persons would shepherd her spirits into a preexisting descriptor, like joyous .

The problem arise where the same nebulous parole is used to describe both uncommon moments of euphoria and the various kinds of sustained thought of satiation we’re told sought for. Happiness can come from physical fitness, destination fulfillment, spontaneity, and myriad other things, but ideally all of them concurrently. That’s a heavy consignment for a single word, or a single relation, to permit.

In addition to being maddeningly ambiguous, joyous is somehow also too specific. It has contributed to appraise, to judge, to determine whether a cognitive state and the circumstances contributing to it are good or bad. This won’t do to summarize the complexities of an individual, let alone the see and bonding of two, over any amount of season other than a lovely, strong instantaneous — like a first kiss.

So why do so many parties — Americans in particular, it seems — prevent returning to the incomprehensible pursuing of merriment , rather than redefining their feelings in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

According to The Journal of Positive Psychology study, it might be since we are simply don’t have the right statements at our disposal. Aiming to “enrich our emotional landscape, ” the authors gathered 216 terms with no direct English translation. All positive, they describe rapports, experiences and persona in specific ways that English precisely can’t.

A survey of the happiness-related texts reveals that while the sensitive is framed in English as a point sought for, most other languages refer joy to luck, and uncontrollable good fortune. Furthermore, greater nuance is applied to the experience of joy in many other languages; linguistically, its a colorful, multi-faceted spectrum. In German and Spanish, the amusement is coming from food is distinct from psychological atonement. In Thai, sabsung “signifies being regenerated through something that livens up one’s life”; In Balinese, rame describes “ something at once chaotic and joyful.”

Had these terms been at my dumping, I might’ve stopped trying to describe my first, messy relation utilizing monotonou, insufficient terms. Or, had I truly listened during my( restriction) math lessons, I would’ve acknowledged years ago that if prosperity is “x, ” “x” doesn’t ever have an intrinsic cost, a unique solution. Sometimes, the outside variables to weigh are infinite.

The post The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate

You know that seeming you get when you’re at dinner with pals — or perhaps it’s someone you’re simply to know — and roused talk of enormous journals or new movies carries on long past the scrounging up of your meal’s last shred?

In Spanish, it’s called sobremesa , but in English there’s no direct rendition. It’s a little like eagerness, a little like a comforting expel, but Americans are likely to liken it to something broader: happy .

A recent study in The Journal of Positive Psychology revealed that, relative to other languages, English is starved for emotionally positive messages, relying instead on one large-hearted descriptor to express everything from simple amusements to the glee knew when the workday aims.

The problem with giving pleasure do all of our oral copes is that, according to some psychologists, the experience of a tendernes is often understood through the words we use to describe it. So, if our speech shortfall a particular parole, we’re less likely to experience the specific seeming attached to it.

This is a pretty good case for expanding our dictionaries beyond a single catchall adjective. Not simply could we deduce more amusement from tasks like the Norwegian utepils ( “drinking beer outside on a hot day” ), but we might be less likely to evaluate the ups and downs of most long-term affairs on such a restrictive scheme: glad versus unhappy.

English is starved for emotionally positive texts, relying instead on one large-scale descriptor to enunciate everything from simple gratifications to the hilarity suffered when the workday ends.

The first time I fell in love , I wasn’t joyous . Not precisely.

I was sitting on the floor of a friend’s dormitory room been speaking with indefensible assertiveness about the likely outcome of the 2008 Republican primaries when I was interrupted by a insolent neighbour. Overhearing me, he butted in to kudo Mike Huckabee. A Hillary backer, I was appalled .

I did notice, however, that he wore his blonde hair in these greasy, unwashed tufts that belied his fad alternatives, who the hell is literally straight-laced and buttoned-up. I was intrigued .

When everybody else on our floor invested Mondays gulping cans of Lone Star while watching “Flavor of Love, ” he remained holed up behind his table investigating differential equations. I asked him to explain his homework to me; he chortled and told me that it’d perhaps be lost on a “word person, ” but he could try. I was intimidated .

Slowly I learned through these wild formulas that arriving at a specific judgment isn’t ever the quality; a problem can be both chaotics and terminated. That a few questions could have multiple answers, or no response at all, pushed against my comfortable minds about “the worlds”. But I was determined , because I was smitten .

When he agreed to a lunch appointment, a skipped class, a camping excursion, I was flattered . When we invested pulls of long, lazy Saturdays swimming in a shadowy, private discern on Town Lake, I felt giddy . When we moved my books and his messy stacks of hoarded newspapers into an suite off campus, I felt hopeful , much to the chagrin of my “word person” acquaintances. When those pals asserted that he was pompous and awkward, I was defensive , but when I stopped appreciating them as much, I was ashamed . What was all of this for? Was I even glad ?

Influenced by the binary proliferated by concerned mothers and self-help shelves everywhere, I set out to lieu my first, messy rapport into one of two nifty columns: glad or unhappy .

This supposed number of self-betterment only muddied circumstances further. Was the find I got after resolving an unnecessary wrangle happiness ? What about the entertaining air of mystery that hung all over the kitchen table at 2 a.m. when we sat together, silently scribbling away at separate questions? That was something; objectivity without loneliness.

But without a word for the affection, it was less valuable to me than those I was able to describe pithily.

So why do so many beings — Americans in particular, it seems — preserve returning to the incomprehensible seek of happiness, rather than redefining their excitements in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

I was, of course, very young . But the conundrum exists in its own language we use to describe adult affairs, too. Psychologists don’t agree for purposes of determining whether the words we use determine our affections or vice versa, but when certain negative adjectives are foremost ( fulfilled , captured , noncommittal ), while others are nonexistent, it’s easy to see how person or persons would shepherd her spirits into a preexisting descriptor, like joyous .

The problem arise where the same nebulous parole is used to describe both uncommon moments of euphoria and the various kinds of sustained thought of satiation we’re told sought for. Happiness can come from physical fitness, destination fulfillment, spontaneity, and myriad other things, but ideally all of them concurrently. That’s a heavy consignment for a single word, or a single relation, to permit.

In addition to being maddeningly ambiguous, joyous is somehow also too specific. It has contributed to appraise, to judge, to determine whether a cognitive state and the circumstances contributing to it are good or bad. This won’t do to summarize the complexities of an individual, let alone the see and bonding of two, over any amount of season other than a lovely, strong instantaneous — like a first kiss.

So why do so many parties — Americans in particular, it seems — prevent returning to the incomprehensible pursuing of merriment , rather than redefining their feelings in lovelier, or at the least more appropriate, expressions?

According to The Journal of Positive Psychology study, it might be since we are simply don’t have the right statements at our disposal. Aiming to “enrich our emotional landscape, ” the authors gathered 216 terms with no direct English translation. All positive, they describe rapports, experiences and persona in specific ways that English precisely can’t.

A survey of the happiness-related texts reveals that while the sensitive is framed in English as a point sought for, most other languages refer joy to luck, and uncontrollable good fortune. Furthermore, greater nuance is applied to the experience of joy in many other languages; linguistically, its a colorful, multi-faceted spectrum. In German and Spanish, the amusement is coming from food is distinct from psychological atonement. In Thai, sabsung “signifies being regenerated through something that livens up one’s life”; In Balinese, rame describes “ something at once chaotic and joyful.”

Had these terms been at my dumping, I might’ve stopped trying to describe my first, messy relation utilizing monotonou, insufficient terms. Or, had I truly listened during my( restriction) math lessons, I would’ve acknowledged years ago that if prosperity is “x, ” “x” doesn’t ever have an intrinsic cost, a unique solution. Sometimes, the outside variables to weigh are infinite.

The post The Words You Use To Describe A Relationship Matter More Than You Speculate appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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