“In the Indo-European tradition, words were always viewed as having magical abilities, or possessing a dangerous magic,” Zimm rambled on. Zimm said, “The root “spellam originally meant story, saying, tale, history, narrative, fable and then the term ‘spell’ started to take on the meaning of a charm or magical incantation in the Middle Ages.” Mike Zimm (editor’s note: James and Zimm sit next to each other, so James “magically” just looked over and asked). And, it had such magical power over me after observing my notebook scribbles, I went so far as to learn more from my favorite wielder of words and Yale professor, Dr. In fact, the word ‘spell’ - to spell a word - actually influenced the idea of casting a spell - to use magic to influence others. They exist to communicate, to express meaning and understanding, to serve as a symbol for something, and then…poof, they’re gone. But, when we stop, when we abandon them, regardless of their linguistic evolution, regardless of their past, they die. We believe in words, we breathe life into them, we toss them into the world and they thrive. Our acceptance and understanding are not bound by logic, but by emotion. That’s because neither are driven by truth, but by belief. Skeptical? Well, you can explain words as well as you can explain magic, and it’d be just as fun hearing you try. So, instead, consider that words are of the supernatural sort, other-worldly, yet not gifted to us by some divine spirit, maybe ever-changing, not ours, simply floating in us and around us, shaping our world and each other, but still shaped by our own innate, internal passions and energy - our Blood! Words can make your heart beat faster, make you sweat, make you cry, make you fall in love. It was magic.Ĭrazy? Maybe, but only if you underestimate words themselves, the strength of them strung together, or our ability to wield them. I realized I wasn’t merely spelling words. This was something unbelievable that I’d simply never paid any attention to. I wiggled my pen on the page and images were born in my brain. Symbols, shapes, ideas were coming to life, bleeding forth from my pen, and they evoked further meaning, emotion, wonder in my mind. With slight, unconscious movement of my pen, magic was happening. One day, as I pretended to take notes in a meeting, I watched my hand moving across my notebook and noticed something odd.
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