Praxis

A year ago, when I started graduate school, I was actively involved in making a list of the reasons I should quit. This was both a conscious and an unconscious process. To exert control on the unconscious process, I made a decision to behave in the classroom. Not get into it with anyone, and not make assumptions on what appeared to be a traditional Catholic university. I knew those assumptions were grounded in my past. And spear-headed my rather inflammatory and confrontational Catholicism. I also knew that this had nothing to do with God, seeking and listening to God, or understanding and accepting the God ways. Which, deep inside of me, was my real goal. On my list, and close to the top, was my inability to comfortably understand what my professors were saying.
I think it is standard to find that language accompanies environment. I knew from my work experience that volcabulary represented culture as well as functionability. If I couldn't use the language as others did, no matter that it was was invented, mutated, or artistic, success and even comfort, would not follow.
I kept hearing words that seemed familar, but they were words that I did not use in my life. I did not really know what these words meant, and that is not where I wanted to start a rigorous course of study, crippled for mental exercise. My professors frequently used the word praxis. I finally looked it up: 1. practice: distinquished from theory 2. established practice; custom
3. a set of examples or exercises

Now praxis is in my volcabulary. And I can use the word. So let me say, there is no praxis for grief.