Interesting. In Hebrew, "neshama" means both breath, and soul. In Judaism, a newborn baby is considered to have a soul only when it takes its first breath. That's when it becomes a human being. The word "ruach" also means breath, wind or spirit. Breath and spirit are interconnected in Hebrew.
Love that. The ancient Jews and Greeks certainly exchanged ideas, and there's plenty of etymology in languages around the world that links breath and spirit. It makes sense when you think about it: nothing connects our body and what's outside us more constantly than breathing. And nothing constantly connects us to one another more than words. Inspiring.
It's funny to me that a word that started with from the same root as periodic, meaning recurring, is now often used to designate a definitive end to their point, like saying (instead of doing) "Mic drop." E.g., "We're going to win this election. Period." That's quite the opposite meaning.
I often wonder how much the etymology matters in cases like this. If people don't know the origin of a word, does it still imply those ancient meanings? Or, in the case of "period," where we still also use the original meaning, "The orbital period of the moon is about 30 days," does that definition or connotation creep into the consciousness (or subconsciousness) when someone uses the other meaning?
I like to think that etymology is at least as important to a word's connotation as ancestry is to a person's character. The periodic root of "period" implies flowing from one thought to another. The biggest mistake beginning writers make is to fail to transition between sentences and paragraphs. Full stops should never be literal.
Does that mean that past meanings creep into everyone's consciousness? Probably not. But those who delve into the history of a word are much more likely to use it in more meaningful ways. Which is why the Oxford English Dictionary (OED.com) is such a great source of inspiration.
Interesting. In Hebrew, "neshama" means both breath, and soul. In Judaism, a newborn baby is considered to have a soul only when it takes its first breath. That's when it becomes a human being. The word "ruach" also means breath, wind or spirit. Breath and spirit are interconnected in Hebrew.
Love that. The ancient Jews and Greeks certainly exchanged ideas, and there's plenty of etymology in languages around the world that links breath and spirit. It makes sense when you think about it: nothing connects our body and what's outside us more constantly than breathing. And nothing constantly connects us to one another more than words. Inspiring.
“I have no words,” as you said, or maybe, "Stop."
It's funny to me that a word that started with from the same root as periodic, meaning recurring, is now often used to designate a definitive end to their point, like saying (instead of doing) "Mic drop." E.g., "We're going to win this election. Period." That's quite the opposite meaning.
I often wonder how much the etymology matters in cases like this. If people don't know the origin of a word, does it still imply those ancient meanings? Or, in the case of "period," where we still also use the original meaning, "The orbital period of the moon is about 30 days," does that definition or connotation creep into the consciousness (or subconsciousness) when someone uses the other meaning?
I like to think that etymology is at least as important to a word's connotation as ancestry is to a person's character. The periodic root of "period" implies flowing from one thought to another. The biggest mistake beginning writers make is to fail to transition between sentences and paragraphs. Full stops should never be literal.
Does that mean that past meanings creep into everyone's consciousness? Probably not. But those who delve into the history of a word are much more likely to use it in more meaningful ways. Which is why the Oxford English Dictionary (OED.com) is such a great source of inspiration.