My wife and I were getting quotes the other day on a new HVAC system, because this is how we do midlife romance.
Between the quotes, education, crypto side-hustles and contradictory information, we found ourselves having the strangest conversations with contractors and each other as we tried to figure out our next step.
Our HVAC is like a conservative politician. It is old, runs on thoughts and prayers, and needs to be replaced with a completely new way of operating. We have an electric bill that rivals the mortgage payment on my childhood home and an energy audit revealed that our HVAC was the culprit.
We find ourselves in the advantageous position of making a decision on something we would want to have but do not need to have. What a luxury in these times! But I am a writer who is not of the Stephen King pay grade, and therefore nice-to-have-things must still be carefully considered.
In a normal world, my wife and I would discuss finances and timing. Does it make sense to invest in this now? Do we spend more and do it the way that it should have been done in the first place, with ducts and intakes in the proper locations?
We have those talks, but our conversations have taken on new flavor. We ask ourselves additional questions like, “Do we go for the more expensive unit knowing that our yard might flood in the next catastrophic hurricane?” or the even more exciting, “Do we keep investing in a home in a place that may no longer be safe for us to live?”
I’ve always considered myself a somewhat logical person. Do we need a new A/C? No. Would it save us money on our electric bill? Yes. Does it make sense now? Sure, if the company and price are right.
But these additional layers of record-breaking weather patterns and geo-political uncertainty cloud the usual “Yes/No” decision making that I am used to. Can’t a gal just invest in her home without simultaneously tumbling into a dystopian horror timeline?
I need to coddiwomple.
I stumbled upon this word while coddiwompling through the internet one day. I love words from other languages and cultures that explain what we know, but don’t necessarily have a word or phrase for in the U.S.
I remember hearing the term “sobremesa” used when I lived in the Dominican Republic, to reflect the time after a meal where we would all linger and chat. Pinterest introduced me to the noun “hiraeth,” a Welsh word which translates to a spiritual longing for a home which maybe never was. And I was absolutely twitterpated when I learned that the Japanese had “komorebi,” a word for that incredible vision of sunlight filtering through the leaves of trees.
It always strikes me as a commentary on our cultural values when we lack a word for a feeling or lived experience. And so I borrow.
Coddiwomple has all of the quirky and punch of so many British slang words that I love, but its meaning hit me right in the hearthole. Coddiwomple means to travel purposefully toward an unknown or vague destination.
Moving with purpose, into the unknown. Sigh.
Maybe it’s all my years in the corporate world that likes measurable goals and outcomes that follow a timeline. Maybe it’s the simple act of being a human and feeling greater safety in the known rather than the unknown. Coddiwompling doesn’t feel like something to aspire to. Yet it may actually be the most desirable way to approach life. It is having a purpose for what you do, what you say, and who you surround yourself with. It’s also leaving the space for life to eventually fill in the blanks.
That is a shedload of trust to put out there.
Coddiwomple doesn’t promise the best outcome; it doesn’t even guarantee a half-decent outcome. But it does remind us how we can start and how each step can be decided along the way — with intention. It’s short-range focused on what we can do right now, offering the sole promise that nothing is promised in the future.
So, while I’d love to have some sort of idea of what this future may hold, I am reminded that all we have is what we are living in right at this very moment. No more Miss Cleo to tell me the future as I pay per minute. Decisions have to be made to the best of our ability. We choose our steps based on our priorities and where we assign value.
I don’t entirely know what to do about my HVAC, but perhaps my next right step is simply to take a step, or as those quirky kids who took Latin in high school might advise — “solvitur ambulando,” or it is solved by walking. Through movement, we create the space for new thoughts and outcomes. Small and intentional forward motion with our feet becomes expansive possibilities in our minds.
This is the essence of the coddiwomple. The answers aren’t clear, because they never could be. But when we’re led by purpose, knowing the “right” outcome matters less because we can see more of the innumerable possibilities before us.
It’s not the prettiest word. It likely won’t impress the snooty-types wherever you go that caters to snooty-types. It makes for some really unspicy pillow-talk. But coddiwompling through life may be exactly how we get through this.
Jillian Abby is the author of “Perfectly Queer” from Hay House and is on Substack at “Reframe with Jillian Abby.”
