on being static-free
Funny, because all this time I've been working under the impression that "nostatic" referred to a lack of static...ie no interference...no noise. You know, "FM, no static at all..." In other words, nostatic as a noun. But as usual, things in my life have multiple meanings and applications, including my own moniker. In this case, I am bumping up against the adjective form of the word. From the Apple dictionary:
static |ˈstatik| adjective:
1. lacking in movement, action, or change, esp. in a way viewed as undesirable or uninteresting : demand has grown in what was a fairly static market | the whole ballet appeared too static. • Computing (of a process or variable) not able to be changed during a set period, for example, while a program is running.
2. Physics concerned with bodies at rest or forces in equilibrium. Often contrasted with dynamic . • (of an electric charge) having gathered on or in an object that cannot conduct a current. • acting as weight but not moving. • of statics.
3 Computing (of a memory or store) not needing to be periodically refreshed by an applied voltage.
noun: crackling or hissing noises on a telephone, radio, or other telecommunications system. • short for static electricity . • informal angry or critical talk or behavior : the reception was going sour, breaking up into static
I suppose that it is instructive to ponder the implications of static v. nostatic (or nonstatic or dynamic) and whether I am "living" my moniker. Not that I have to, but interesting to take stock, especially when outside forces give a gentle (!) nudge in that direction. However I undertake it with some trepidation, because I also am becoming increasingly leery of over-analysis (at least logical analysis as opposed to emotional). But...
If I truly am nostatic, then I should not be lacking in movement or change. My professional life certainly applies here...definitely not static. My personal life? Hmm...good question. In that case I think there needs to be a balance between change, evolution, and stability. Change usually obviates comfort to some degree, so constant churn, at least for me, can be too much. But how do you balance all of these forces? Especially when the juggling act involves two (or more) people? I'm sure someone's written a book on it (Dr. Phil?), but I'm also sure that it doesn't capture the nuance or depth of the individual situation.
What never ceases to amaze me is how quickly things can turn. One minute smooth, the next minute rough. One minute painful, the next minute pleasant. It would seem true that no feeling is final, but it also seems that all feelings are tiring. Not to say that I'm going to stop feeling, but I need the controls back. If the plane flies into the wall, I need to have the radio, not hand it to someone else right before impact.