- a small piece of shaped metal with incisions cut to fit the wards of a particular lock, and that is inserted into a lock and turned to open or close it.
- a small, shaped metal implement for operating a switch in the form of a lock, especially one operating the ignition of a motor vehicle.
- an instrument for grasping and turning a screw, peg, or nut, especially one for winding a clock or turning a valve.
- a pin, bolt, or wedge inserted between other pieces, or fitting into a hole or space designed for it, so as to lock parts together.
- each of several buttons on a panel for operating a computer, typewriter, or telephone.
- a lever depressed by the finger in playing an instrument such as the organ, piano, flute, or concertina.
- a lever operating a mechanical device for making or breaking an electric circuit, for example, in telegraphy.
- a thing that provides a means of gaining access to or understanding something
- an explanatory list of symbols used in a map, table, etc..
- a set of answers to exercises or problems.
- a word or system for solving a cipher or code.
- the first move in the solution of a chess problem.
- Computing a field in a record that is used to identify that record uniquely.
- Music a group of notes based on a particular note and comprising a scale, regarded as forming the tonal basis of a piece or passage of music
- the tone or pitch of someone’s voice
- the prevailing tone or tenor of a piece of writing, situation, etc.
- the prevailing range of tones or intensities in a painting
- the dry winged fruit of an ash, maple, or sycamore maple, typically growing in bunches; a samara.
- British the part of a first coat of wall plaster that passes between the laths and so secures the rest.
- [in singular] the roughness of a surface, helping the adhesion of plaster or other material.
- Basketball the keyhole-shaped area marked on the court near each basket, comprising the free-throw circle and the foul line.
- of paramount or crucial importance
[with object]
- enter or operate on (data) by means of a computer keyboard or telephone keypad
- (usually be keyed) fasten (something) in position with a pin, wedge, or bolt
- British roughen (a surface) to help the adhesion of plaster or other material.
- word (an advertisement in a particular periodical), typically by varying the form of the address given, so as to identify the publication generating particular responses.
- North American informal be the crucial factor in achieving
- vandalize a car by scraping the paint from it with a key
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For the last few weeks, I've been almost entirely without the motivation to write. I wouldn't blame it on the writer's block which leaves words and subjects elusive, but rather the writer's block responsible for filling time with everything other than the space necessary for words to not only come, but also make their way onto the page.
I'm about to enter into week three of the fall semester. I have half-completed lesson plans and grading yet to complete. I didn't get a chance this weekend to read even a single word of the reading I'd dive into because of my fascination with the subject or to spur on my own writing, though I did read the two chapters I assigned to be read for Tuesday in one of my courses. I did get all of the domestic things done-- groceries were purchased, the house was picked up and vacuumed, laundry was switched. All day long I contemplated the words I expected I'd be writing on for this week and none of them seemed quite right. And so now, at 8 PM on Sunday night, as Sunday night football plays in the next room, here I am, finally, in front of the keys...the keys...
There's been a good deal of change cycling through me as of late. Perspectives I've long held are shifting, in small ways and in rather large ways. And yet, right alongside this modulation of melody, is the old, the very, very old, competing song. A song I can't seem to stop playing. It goes something like this-- dumb, fat, worthless...ugly, stupid, fat...fat, why, fat...I shouldn't try...I'm wasting...I'm wasteful...I'm nothing other than nothing other than dumb, fat, worthless.
Catchy, isn't it?
I haven't seen my immediate family for quite awhile now. I haven't seen my brother and his wife since their blessing ceremony in July of 2012. I haven't seen my parent's since their Christmas visit a few days after the holiday this past December. I haven't spoken with them via phone since January. This is, decidedly, the longest period of time I've gone without that kind of contact. Even email contact has been sporadic, though not for a lack of my mother's attempts. It's been my fault. My fault. Dumb, fat, worthless, my fault... old song...
Key change...
On days where the new song plays, I don't think in terms of fault. I don't label myself in any way. It isn't that I'm magically smart or worthy or faultless. I just am and so I'm able to move freely. My song can progress. I can progress.
My thoughts, key changes, are also seasonal. As I sit here now, the cool, leaning-toward-cold, almost-Autumn air, blows over my right shoulder. My hands are cold. In part, the change reminds me of going back to school as a kid, with much new-- new clothes, a new backpack, untouched school supplies, new teachers, new things to learn, new schedules, new locker combinations. On another hand, the seasonal change reminds me of that time of year when the endlessly lingering summer, the stiflingly hot, stuck-at-home summer, finally kicked over into the relief of cooler weather, of feeling like I contributed to something bigger than myself. There was music again and theater again and reading for class and writing for class and the endless attempts to connect to teachers as I tried to find one or two who truly felt I was special and had something to offer because I was looking, so desperately, for that kind of validation. And when the season would shift and change again, looking for that validation and acceptance and love wasn't right. I was wrong and fat and dumb and selfish and worthless and... play on, sweet, familiar song, play on...
I'm three weeks into the fall semester. I have half-completed lesson plans and grading yet to do. I still don't know what I want to say, but I suspect it's because things are changing and I'm still trying to tune in to the modulation, still trying to find the right key and the correct door. There's a seasonal change coming that has already brought cinnamon brooms and homemade applesauce into our home. There's a crafted pumpkin as the centerpiece on our dining room table sitting on an orange and yellow and maroon harvest plaid tablecloth, purchased on our way back home from stopping for cider donuts and the cider to drink with them. Football is playing in the next room. And I'm hoping somewhere in the midst of all of these things, I'll find a key capable of turning the old song off, if not forever, for longer than I ever have before. As the temperatures get cooler and we move in, we can discover the warmth in the warmth in the center of our selves.
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