It’s that time of year again — the languorous days of summer. Don’t you just love that word? I had to look it up to be sure it means what I imagine it does. To be languorous is to be dreamy, lackadaisical, and unhurried. When someone is languorous, she's lying around, daydreaming, soaking in the beauty of nature, possibly fanning herself lazily. Sound self-indulgent? Absolutely! And as the long days of summer arrive and the graceful white egrets return to fish in the pond, languorous sounds wonderful.

We all yearn to be in a relationship where we are loved unconditionally, where we can be completely unconcerned about social correctness: be chatty or silent, caring or self-centered, moody or calm, serious or silly, focused or distracted — to have all these freedoms, and still be completely adored. Our pets fulfill that tall order. And in doing so they teach us how to love unconditionally.

Imagine how different our lives would be if there was no "norm" to be measured against. For just a moment, pretend you are Leonardo da Vinci, a child living in 15th century Florence, who loves to draw and is good at it. You're fortunate to be apprenticed to the greatest artist of your region, a man named Andrea del Verrocchio. Soon you surpass the skill of this tough taskmaster and become one of the great painters of the Italian Renaissance. But because you’re also intrigued by science, engineering, music, and philosophy, people criticize you in a hurtful way. They say you suffer from an attention disorder because rather than just focusing on art, you flit from topic to topic.

If you know what chiasmus is and already appreciate its unique character, you needn't read further. But if like me, you're discovering this rhetorical device for the first time, it's like finding a hidden treasure. We've all heard chiasmi (yes, that's the plural) used in speeches, lyrics of songs, and comedy routines, but until now I didn't recognize them by name. So let me introduce you to chiasmus and get ready for fun!