Describe a sensation or feeling that lacks a specific word.
Posted on Jul 10th, 2007
by 
tinkonthebrink
tinkonthebrink
This is in Response to the Questions and Reflections for June 15, 2007:
The DSM IV is a nearly thousand page manual of categories and terms for dysfunctional mental states and negative emotional baggage. It gets referenced a lot in the field I work in.
There has to be a missing thousand pages, at least, describing all the varieties of joy and gratitude and generosity, the subtle and complicated ways we open our hearts, all the different kinds of beauty that spill out of us, our amazing and beautiful interactions with the world. There have to be terms that haven't been invented yet for these states of grace and bliss.
In English, there is no equivalent of chantepleure, meaning to sing and weep simultaneously. There isn't a word for the kind of heartbreak that splits the heart open and lets the universe in. There's no term for the flavor of sunlight on skin, or the sensation when the rain kisses you back. Pablo Neruda's poetry is built of juxtapositions of words that elicit sensations and emotions that don't have names of their own - savage harvests and oceans throbbing with fish, sleek laughter, perforated shadows, forgotten wings.
I think there is so much danger in being limited by what we already have the words for, so much risk of what we'll miss. In 2003 astronomers realized that our galaxy, the Milky Way Galaxy, has a fifth arm to its pinwheel form. It was there and visible all along, 77,000 light years long, just waiting to be noticed and named, but being unnamed made it invisible. I wonder how many things I miss because I lack a specific word?
There has to be a missing thousand pages, at least, describing all the varieties of joy and gratitude and generosity, the subtle and complicated ways we open our hearts, all the different kinds of beauty that spill out of us, our amazing and beautiful interactions with the world. There have to be terms that haven't been invented yet for these states of grace and bliss.
In English, there is no equivalent of chantepleure, meaning to sing and weep simultaneously. There isn't a word for the kind of heartbreak that splits the heart open and lets the universe in. There's no term for the flavor of sunlight on skin, or the sensation when the rain kisses you back. Pablo Neruda's poetry is built of juxtapositions of words that elicit sensations and emotions that don't have names of their own - savage harvests and oceans throbbing with fish, sleek laughter, perforated shadows, forgotten wings.
I think there is so much danger in being limited by what we already have the words for, so much risk of what we'll miss. In 2003 astronomers realized that our galaxy, the Milky Way Galaxy, has a fifth arm to its pinwheel form. It was there and visible all along, 77,000 light years long, just waiting to be noticed and named, but being unnamed made it invisible. I wonder how many things I miss because I lack a specific word?
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September 2008 
I agree with you regarding the DSM IV-missing a few categories/words/positive labels?! Is it contagious to be encouraging, uplifting, inspiring. I think so and you're right there's more danger by limiting ourselves into a box of confined comfort zones than teaching the ability to stretch our minds.
My new word for the day:
flapalimegolime-[flap- al -eh -mah -gull -ah -me]
1. to be over taken by confusion, frustration, or bewildered during child rearing practices
2. a dis-ease commonly found during parenting teenagers, curative by learning to laugh at oneself or in some severe cases, removal of the “perfectionist measuring stick”, located in the frontal lobe. :)
Wonderful words. I am reminded of those that are pigeon-holed with the diagnosis of Autism, yet they are the ones that hear in colors. If only I could do so.
And remember in that manual up until 1973, homosexuality was considered a mental disorder, so how many other things in there are outdated and outmoded labels for behavior?
I like this and the idea there are many things for which there are no words…
so true.
This was fascinating. There is no word forchantepleure, meaning to sing and weep simultaneously, and so no way for us to really understand the meaning behind the beautiful Fado music of Portugal. I would give a great deal to be able to read Pablo Neruda or Garcia Lorca in Spanish, for as much as I am getting, I know I am missing that much more. I suggest we start making up words for things we haven't got them for. Sunlight on skin … that's the first one I'm after. Going outside and think about it.
There's no word for having one's breath taken away by absolutely exquisite writing …
Wow Jeannie, this is a wonderful post.
It's got me thinking about many things. I thought about how I'd respond but realized that I want to make more than a short comment.
I believe that language does inform one's worldview - strongly. I believe that not having words for some thing does limit one's perception and apprehension of that thing. I believe that ”to have a second language is to have a second soul.” I believe that the boys at school are asking me questions that are absolutely fundamental.
I'll post something soon. Really!
Thank you and yes to DiamondLil's response!
well thanks to Albert for leading me astray and here when I should be working…
There's a secret passage in this labyrinth you may not yet have noticed
it's called play-pod and was sown in our minds by Dryad
Have you been down there? If you ever drop by please tingo related stuff from here and there and drop some new toys in the pod for the rest of the poddings to play with…
chantepleure ..how can we possibly live without this word?
Wow.