Name

Try this. Rewrite the sentence "the flower in the window" as "the geranium in the window."

The name geranium immediately gives us the scene by the window - red petals, green circular leaves, all straining toward sunlight. This is what I've learnt from Natalie Goldberg after reading her classic Writing Down the Bones. Don't say "fruit," Natalie reminds us, and tell what kind of fruit - "It is a pomegranate."

Give things the dignity of names, to paraphrase Natalie Goldberg. And that's pretty wise.

These are words from the heart as much as the head, and as such offer precious insights into the world other than that of writers. About ten years ago I decided I had to remember people's names after reading How to Win Friends and Influence People. While I have trouble with memory as I get old, I subscribe to Dale Carnegie's theory that names are the sweetest and most important sound in any language. In fact, we could offer dozens, indeed hundreds, of examples in which remembering names gains good will.

Okay. Take the example of a busy medical ward. An on-call intern came to my ward last night when one of my patients developed pancreas complication after a procedure to look for stones in his bile ducts. A complication in the pancreas is no joke; it means an injury to the patient's digestive system. If the injury gets free rein, it can literally digest or eat away the pancreas. Many of us, understandably, freaked out after receiving the high enzyme laboratory level. Nine times out of ten, the nurses or doctor would call the intern "Hey, houseman, that's bed 10 with amylase level over 6000." But this wasn't the case. Our nurse called her by name, Katrina, instead of "houseman."

I didn't know how the nurses recalled our intern's name, but I certainly felt the appreciation of Katrina.