The Caring Catalyst http://thecaringcatalyst.com Who Cares - What Matters Wed, 16 Nov 2016 01:06:20 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.2.2 52309807 MUDDIED WORDS http://thecaringcatalyst.com/muddied-words/ http://thecaringcatalyst.com/muddied-words/#respond Wed, 16 Nov 2016 12:00:56 +0000 http://thecaringcatalyst.com/?p=2072 imrs-php

It was a moment I’ll never forget.     .      .

She’s an 87 year old lady

on hospice

who looked up from her bed at me

and asked me if it was ok for her to say the word:

“F  *  C  K?”

It rolled so sweetly off her tongue.     .     .

from her lips.       .       .

and I remember distinctly not being able to hold back a smile as I asked,

“Do you need permission to say anything, to me, to anyone?”

“It’s   just   a   word   that   for   all   of   my   life   has   seemed   to   sum   up   everything,”

she said,

“.       .       .when   I’m   mad,   when   I’m   happy,   when   I’m   afraid   and   scared   or   when                         I’m   in   pain.     .     .”

“.     .     .Do   you   think   it’s   wrong.     .     .Do   you   think   I’ll   be   punished   for   it?”

“Was you  intention  ever to hurt someone or embarrass them?”

“Oh  no, never.   .   .I  guess  I  always  said   ‘f * c k’    to  make  me  feel  better.”

“Has it?”

“Always.   .   .it’s my go-to-sum-it-all-up-word.       .        .      .”

Some nearly twenty years later.       .       .

Every time I hear

t  h  e     w  o  r   d

I think of her and smile.       .       .

Back then I didn’t have the

Research

The Studies

The Data

that back up her empirical feelings.       .        .

I’ve swallowed bars of soap.     .     .

Sat in countless  TIME OUT  Chairs.     .     .

Been sent to my room.     .     .

Felt a hand across my face.     .     .

Been embarrassed.     .     .

but it seems that the

c     u     r     s     i     n     g

problem, isn’t a problem at all.

Now this is not a blog post

to condone

to allow

to make ok

to put a stamp of approval on

 m     u     d     d     i     e     d              w     o     r     d     s

but the studies are showing support

for what my hospice patient felt all of those years ago:

THAT   SWEARING  ACTUALLY  RELIEVES  PAIN

.       .       .and isn’t that the real goal of emotional outbursts:

TO   RELIEVE  PAIN ?

Richard Stephens of Keele University in England led a study that measured just how long 67 college students could keep their hands submerged in ice water.       .       .The group of students were encouraged to yell profanities for one controlled testing, and then to use non-swear words while completing the test.     .     .is it surprising that the 67 volunteers endured the cold temperatures for some 40 seconds longer  WHILE  SCREAMING  OBSCENITIES and more, the group actually felt less pain overall.     .      .Stephens even went so far as to say, “I would advise people, if they hurt themselves, to swear.”

Of course, there is a sanitary, clinical term for this:

HYPOALGESIC   EFFECT  OF  SWEARING

Richard Stephens also concluded 10 other reasons why swearing may be good for the Soul:

IT  MAKES  YOU FEEL  STRONGER

IT  ACTUALLY  DOESN’T  MAKE YOU  FEEL  STUPID  OR  IGNORANT

IT  SERVES  AS  A  GREAT  COPING  MECHANISM

IT  HELPS  YOU  FEEL  MUCH  MORE  RESILIENT

IT  REALLY  DOES  MAKE  YOU  FEEL  SO  VERY  MUCH  BETTER

IT’S  MORE  ENGAGING  WHILE  WATCHING  TV  AND  MOVIES

IT  HELPS  CREATE  CLOSE  BONDS  WITH  OTHER  PEOPLE

IT’S   INNATE   AND   EXPRESSIVE

IT   MEANS   YOU’RE   CREATIVE

IT  HELPS  YOU  EMPHASIZE  YOUR  POINTS  

Timothy Jay,  a psychologist at the Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts has spent the last 35 years studying the use of profanities.  He states, “It allows us to vent or express anger, joy, surprise, happiness, grief.     .     .It’s like the horn on your car, you can do a lot of things with that, it’s built into you.     .     .     .”

Maybe all of those years ago.       .       .

without the studies and the research.     .      .

my sweet, hospice patient was right that day.         .        .

After I prayed with her that afternoon,

her blue eyes twinkled with a sly secret

that couldn’t quite hold the surprise any longer

as she reached up and touched the side of my face and said,

“You’re such a nice  f*cking man.      .      .

we laughed for the

b e n e d i c t i o n

and honestly.      .     .

f e l t   better

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