It slips into conversation without ceremony. Six-ish, we say, or blue-ish, or done-ish, and with that single syllable, we soften the word. Ish is a quiet rebellion against precision – not as an escape, but as a gesture of truth told in layers. It leaves space. It breathes. It understands the world rarely fits clean lines.
I’ve long been drawn to ish, perhapds before I even noticed it. It was always there, padding around the edges of certaintly like a fox in twilight, saying: not quite, but close. it isn’t a cop-out. It isn’t indecision. It’s something gentler, something liminal. The shimmering place where something mostly fits, but not entirely. A way of honouring what almost is, without forcing it to become what it is not.
Continue reading “The Power of “Ish””
The London Druid 