Repetition

"Oh wow! Oh wow!
Oh wow!"
The last words of Steve Jobs, founder of Apple are clearly an expression of intensified language. We can only imagine what inspired his final expression of awe. Perhaps his perception broadened to encompass the same magnificent landscape that moved Thomas Edison to emerge from a coma, open his eyes, look upward, and exclaim, “It is very beautiful over there!”
Exclamations of wonder occur frequently in the words of the dying, often in reference to some place not visible to the living. Here are a few examples:
--“Do you hear that music? It is so beautiful! It is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard!”
--“The left. The left side. It is just like you described to me. But more beautiful!”
--“Oh, more...more...more worlds and worlds...and worlds.”
--“The green dimension! The green dimension!”
--“I’m happy. I’m happy!”
--“Beautiful, so beautiful!”
There are also expressions of intensified anguish or pain or fear, such as these last words from a young man’s father:
--“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”
--“I am scared to die. Help me! Help me!”
Repetition plays an important part in exclamations of both wonder and anguish. It is a form of figurative language that can turn a simple sentence into a dramatic one, making certain experiences more memorable. Repetition expresses intensified emotions, insight, knowing. It also deepens, deepens, deepens our point of focus.
Like a heartbeat.
A drumbeat.
Or the rhythm of cicadas or river currents or gulls calling.
The following beautiful description comes from my friend the author Carolyn North, who wrote about death and dying in The Experience of a Lifetime: Living Fully, Dying Consciously. In an email sent out to friends and family, Carolyn shared this account of her husband’s final words:
--“'It’s good, but,'he whispered at one point, 'also not important.' It was very close to the end and I leaned forward to catch his words.
--'Because you see that there are two worlds?' I asked him quietly.
--'Oh, more...more...' Here he lifted an arm and described spirals in the air.'More worlds and worlds...' His eyes were awestruck, seeing what the rest of us could not see. --'Oh...so...profound,' he whispered. 'So...powerful.'"
As we cross the threshold, repetition appears in a number of ways. It is often used often in declarations of wonder;but it is also used to express a number of other themes. Here are some typical kinds of pronouncements that I encountered:
Reassurance
--“I feel secure. I feel so secure.”
--“Tell everyone I am all right. I am all right.”
--“There is no fear...no fear...no fear.”
Gratitude
--“I have to thank them. I want to thank them. I want to thank them.”
--“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you.”
The End
--“I am dying, I am dying, and there are all these people here.”
--“I am dying. I am dying.”
--“I am daring...daring, daring to die.”
--“Bye. Bye. Bye now.”
Resistance
--“Go away! Go away! I am not ready yet!” “I don’t want to die!
--"I don’t want to die!” “I am tired. So tired. I am losing it. Losing it.”
--“It’s so hard to die! It’s so hard to die!”
Unity
--“There are two hulls, and I need you to get the two hulls, need to put them
together to make one.”
--“It’s all in one piece...It’s all in one piece...It’s all in
one piece...What you see in different pieces...it’s all in one piece!”
Circles
--“It’s a circle...it’s a circle...love is a circle.”
--“The circles say it’s time to complete the cycle.”
--“Like those circles at the top of the Christmas tree. A small circle inside a
larger one.”
Numerics
--“What is the number 8 doing in the corner of my room? What is the number 8...down there?”
--“Three days left. Three days left. I know I have three left. But my family won’t let me. They won’t.”
--“Enough...enough...the angels say enough...only three days left.”
Circles appear frequently in final words, often in enigmatic and mysterious ways.
They imply completeness or wholeness, as does unity (examples of which precede the circle examples in the list). I have not heard anyone say,
--“It’s a square! It’s a square!” or “It’s a hexagon! It’s a hexagon.”
(Notice the common use of it’s . Among the most prevalent exclamations are those that have to do with movement and motion:
Exclamations of Motion
--“I’ve got to get off, get off! Off of this life. I’m dying. I’m dying.”
--“I am falling, I am falling, but I am not ready to go. They are getting ready to pick me up. When I fall, they are going to pick me up.”
--“It’s time to get up, get up, get up...”
-- “I’m dying. I’m dying. The trains keep going by. The trains keep going by, but I can’t get on. I’ve got the
ticket. I have the ticket.”
--“She is coming for me. Coming for me. She said she is
coming for me.”
-- “I am coming, Mother!”
--“The Jetta! The Jetta! The Jetta!”
-- “We have been able to continue the journey together. I want to continue together.”
“Dad, I’m here! He is...is leaving, he’s leaving, he’s leaving.”
If these samples are a true reflection of the distribution of exclamations at the end of life, then this is a compelling revelation. It indicates that there is, indeed, a common experience of moving or going somewhere at the end of life. Perhaps this reflects the movement of consciousness as we shift dimensions. It is hard not to feel the power of movement evoked by these repetitive phrases, and by the themes of departure and motion, all of which are expressed even though the speaker may be completely restricted in movement.
Imagine the voice of a hypnotist guiding a client down a series of stairs, deepening a trance: “Take that first step, feeling the weight of your foot as it goes down. Now take that second step, feeling the weight of your foot sink even deeper. And that third step, heavier, heavier than before.” Repetition can have the effect of moving us “down” somewhere even when, in actuality, there is little or no physical movement. It appears that repetition may be a kind of vehicle that can transport consciousness or even track its movement. Adam Eason, a hypnotherapist, explains, “Repetition is hypnotic, repetition is hypnotic, repetition is hypnotic.”
These phrases are perhaps more complex linguistic forms than a simple literal sentence such as “I am standing outside.” Here are examples of a kind of repetition commonly found in poetry called ploce that appears in the transcripts I studied:
--“How much wider does this wider go?”
--“There is so much so in sorrow.”
“Here is the here; where is the there?”
“God calling me home is not a clear call. God calls onMonday, but I continue to live and breathe and be alive.”
All these utterances shift the paradigms of language, as if to say, “A word’s meaning in one context can become entirely different in another.” The language is intriguing because, while we might expect some kind of deterioration in our use of language as our minds and bodies degrade, we actually see some very complex language — language that could be described as more complex than what we hear in the language of healthy people.
As a linguist, I cannot help but ask, “Why would we see such complex language at the end of life if our minds and consciousness are waning?” The complex, and even poetic, language suggests to me that consciousness operates, and may even intensify in importance, as our bodies weaken.
Sustained Narrative and Repetition over Time
Repetition involves more than just single words and phrases: it also appears over time in the themes of some of the conversations that I studied. As mentioned earlier, the metaphors of the dying evolve over time. While some of the words may seem nonsensical when heard in isolation, they often form cohesive patterns over the course of days and weeks. For example, a conversation tracked over time may be something like the following one describing the “imagi- nary” companions of one woman’s great-uncle:
--March 10. “There’s these guys playing poker, and they want me to be the fourth hand. I told them I don’t want to play. I don’t want to sit at their table and play.”
--March 15. “They’re telling me I have to play, and I just don’t want to. I don’t want to be their fourth hand.”
--March 20. “I don’t have no choice now, do I? They’re bad folks, though. They are drinking and smoking. And I don’t think I should be playing with them.”
--March 30. “It’s okay. I don’t have much choice anyway. I’ll do what they say. I’ll sit with them. I’ll get out of my old chair here and sit with them.”
When a transcript is studied over time, repetition of themes may emerge over days and weeks — and these repeated themes make their own kind of sense when examined over time rather than in isolation. A continuous narrative unfolds.
We saw examples of this when we looked at the metaphor of the journey and how metaphors evolve. It is not uncommon for someone to use a metaphor early in the dying process, such as “I need my suitcase,” and then, as the dying process intensifies, to re- peat the metaphor but change it in some way — for example, “Now that I have my suitcase, I need my passport. Where is my passport?”
What is remarkable is that the dying person seems to be engaged in a story unrelated to the world we know, and that it seems to endure and develop over days and weeks.
How often do you or I remember a story or theme that we began last week? Could you tell me about some idea or theme you articulated in a conversation ten days ago? Would you be able to progressively build upon that story or theme? Probably not. Our language and story lines are often rooted in the interactions we have with others from day to day, even minute to minute. While we may create sustained narratives when we write, it is rare to do so when we speak.
When we write, we are able to capture and freeze our story lines and add to them; but in the utterances of the dying, certain symbols and story lines develop over days and weeks. How is it that the dying remember what they said two weeks ago and then continue on with the themes or stories from days or weeks past?
The repetition in the language and narratives of the dying expresses a number of themes,
from agony to ecstasy. While this language may not sate our curiosity about what exists beyond the threshold, the use of repetition suggests that there are complex and systematic patterns at work in it. This kind of organization indicates that there may be much more than a disintegrating mind at play
during our final days.
Oh wow!"
The last words of Steve Jobs, founder of Apple are clearly an expression of intensified language. We can only imagine what inspired his final expression of awe. Perhaps his perception broadened to encompass the same magnificent landscape that moved Thomas Edison to emerge from a coma, open his eyes, look upward, and exclaim, “It is very beautiful over there!”
Exclamations of wonder occur frequently in the words of the dying, often in reference to some place not visible to the living. Here are a few examples:
--“Do you hear that music? It is so beautiful! It is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard!”
--“The left. The left side. It is just like you described to me. But more beautiful!”
--“Oh, more...more...more worlds and worlds...and worlds.”
--“The green dimension! The green dimension!”
--“I’m happy. I’m happy!”
--“Beautiful, so beautiful!”
There are also expressions of intensified anguish or pain or fear, such as these last words from a young man’s father:
--“I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”
--“I am scared to die. Help me! Help me!”
Repetition plays an important part in exclamations of both wonder and anguish. It is a form of figurative language that can turn a simple sentence into a dramatic one, making certain experiences more memorable. Repetition expresses intensified emotions, insight, knowing. It also deepens, deepens, deepens our point of focus.
Like a heartbeat.
A drumbeat.
Or the rhythm of cicadas or river currents or gulls calling.
The following beautiful description comes from my friend the author Carolyn North, who wrote about death and dying in The Experience of a Lifetime: Living Fully, Dying Consciously. In an email sent out to friends and family, Carolyn shared this account of her husband’s final words:
--“'It’s good, but,'he whispered at one point, 'also not important.' It was very close to the end and I leaned forward to catch his words.
--'Because you see that there are two worlds?' I asked him quietly.
--'Oh, more...more...' Here he lifted an arm and described spirals in the air.'More worlds and worlds...' His eyes were awestruck, seeing what the rest of us could not see. --'Oh...so...profound,' he whispered. 'So...powerful.'"
As we cross the threshold, repetition appears in a number of ways. It is often used often in declarations of wonder;but it is also used to express a number of other themes. Here are some typical kinds of pronouncements that I encountered:
Reassurance
--“I feel secure. I feel so secure.”
--“Tell everyone I am all right. I am all right.”
--“There is no fear...no fear...no fear.”
Gratitude
--“I have to thank them. I want to thank them. I want to thank them.”
--“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you.”
The End
--“I am dying, I am dying, and there are all these people here.”
--“I am dying. I am dying.”
--“I am daring...daring, daring to die.”
--“Bye. Bye. Bye now.”
Resistance
--“Go away! Go away! I am not ready yet!” “I don’t want to die!
--"I don’t want to die!” “I am tired. So tired. I am losing it. Losing it.”
--“It’s so hard to die! It’s so hard to die!”
Unity
--“There are two hulls, and I need you to get the two hulls, need to put them
together to make one.”
--“It’s all in one piece...It’s all in one piece...It’s all in
one piece...What you see in different pieces...it’s all in one piece!”
Circles
--“It’s a circle...it’s a circle...love is a circle.”
--“The circles say it’s time to complete the cycle.”
--“Like those circles at the top of the Christmas tree. A small circle inside a
larger one.”
Numerics
--“What is the number 8 doing in the corner of my room? What is the number 8...down there?”
--“Three days left. Three days left. I know I have three left. But my family won’t let me. They won’t.”
--“Enough...enough...the angels say enough...only three days left.”
Circles appear frequently in final words, often in enigmatic and mysterious ways.
They imply completeness or wholeness, as does unity (examples of which precede the circle examples in the list). I have not heard anyone say,
--“It’s a square! It’s a square!” or “It’s a hexagon! It’s a hexagon.”
(Notice the common use of it’s . Among the most prevalent exclamations are those that have to do with movement and motion:
Exclamations of Motion
--“I’ve got to get off, get off! Off of this life. I’m dying. I’m dying.”
--“I am falling, I am falling, but I am not ready to go. They are getting ready to pick me up. When I fall, they are going to pick me up.”
--“It’s time to get up, get up, get up...”
-- “I’m dying. I’m dying. The trains keep going by. The trains keep going by, but I can’t get on. I’ve got the
ticket. I have the ticket.”
--“She is coming for me. Coming for me. She said she is
coming for me.”
-- “I am coming, Mother!”
--“The Jetta! The Jetta! The Jetta!”
-- “We have been able to continue the journey together. I want to continue together.”
“Dad, I’m here! He is...is leaving, he’s leaving, he’s leaving.”
If these samples are a true reflection of the distribution of exclamations at the end of life, then this is a compelling revelation. It indicates that there is, indeed, a common experience of moving or going somewhere at the end of life. Perhaps this reflects the movement of consciousness as we shift dimensions. It is hard not to feel the power of movement evoked by these repetitive phrases, and by the themes of departure and motion, all of which are expressed even though the speaker may be completely restricted in movement.
Imagine the voice of a hypnotist guiding a client down a series of stairs, deepening a trance: “Take that first step, feeling the weight of your foot as it goes down. Now take that second step, feeling the weight of your foot sink even deeper. And that third step, heavier, heavier than before.” Repetition can have the effect of moving us “down” somewhere even when, in actuality, there is little or no physical movement. It appears that repetition may be a kind of vehicle that can transport consciousness or even track its movement. Adam Eason, a hypnotherapist, explains, “Repetition is hypnotic, repetition is hypnotic, repetition is hypnotic.”
These phrases are perhaps more complex linguistic forms than a simple literal sentence such as “I am standing outside.” Here are examples of a kind of repetition commonly found in poetry called ploce that appears in the transcripts I studied:
--“How much wider does this wider go?”
--“There is so much so in sorrow.”
“Here is the here; where is the there?”
“God calling me home is not a clear call. God calls onMonday, but I continue to live and breathe and be alive.”
All these utterances shift the paradigms of language, as if to say, “A word’s meaning in one context can become entirely different in another.” The language is intriguing because, while we might expect some kind of deterioration in our use of language as our minds and bodies degrade, we actually see some very complex language — language that could be described as more complex than what we hear in the language of healthy people.
As a linguist, I cannot help but ask, “Why would we see such complex language at the end of life if our minds and consciousness are waning?” The complex, and even poetic, language suggests to me that consciousness operates, and may even intensify in importance, as our bodies weaken.
Sustained Narrative and Repetition over Time
Repetition involves more than just single words and phrases: it also appears over time in the themes of some of the conversations that I studied. As mentioned earlier, the metaphors of the dying evolve over time. While some of the words may seem nonsensical when heard in isolation, they often form cohesive patterns over the course of days and weeks. For example, a conversation tracked over time may be something like the following one describing the “imagi- nary” companions of one woman’s great-uncle:
--March 10. “There’s these guys playing poker, and they want me to be the fourth hand. I told them I don’t want to play. I don’t want to sit at their table and play.”
--March 15. “They’re telling me I have to play, and I just don’t want to. I don’t want to be their fourth hand.”
--March 20. “I don’t have no choice now, do I? They’re bad folks, though. They are drinking and smoking. And I don’t think I should be playing with them.”
--March 30. “It’s okay. I don’t have much choice anyway. I’ll do what they say. I’ll sit with them. I’ll get out of my old chair here and sit with them.”
When a transcript is studied over time, repetition of themes may emerge over days and weeks — and these repeated themes make their own kind of sense when examined over time rather than in isolation. A continuous narrative unfolds.
We saw examples of this when we looked at the metaphor of the journey and how metaphors evolve. It is not uncommon for someone to use a metaphor early in the dying process, such as “I need my suitcase,” and then, as the dying process intensifies, to re- peat the metaphor but change it in some way — for example, “Now that I have my suitcase, I need my passport. Where is my passport?”
What is remarkable is that the dying person seems to be engaged in a story unrelated to the world we know, and that it seems to endure and develop over days and weeks.
How often do you or I remember a story or theme that we began last week? Could you tell me about some idea or theme you articulated in a conversation ten days ago? Would you be able to progressively build upon that story or theme? Probably not. Our language and story lines are often rooted in the interactions we have with others from day to day, even minute to minute. While we may create sustained narratives when we write, it is rare to do so when we speak.
When we write, we are able to capture and freeze our story lines and add to them; but in the utterances of the dying, certain symbols and story lines develop over days and weeks. How is it that the dying remember what they said two weeks ago and then continue on with the themes or stories from days or weeks past?
The repetition in the language and narratives of the dying expresses a number of themes,
from agony to ecstasy. While this language may not sate our curiosity about what exists beyond the threshold, the use of repetition suggests that there are complex and systematic patterns at work in it. This kind of organization indicates that there may be much more than a disintegrating mind at play
during our final days.