Have been awash in emotion a lot this week. Lotsa folks I know and don't know seemed quite moved by the new Hyperbole and a Half post on depression; I dug her depiction too, but came away thinking how it can be overwhelming at times to (not be depressed/numb but) feel. Not that I'd trade. I wouldn't trade.
Orienting oneself is etymologically about finding east, but generally it's about getting one's bearings, by which we mean which direction is which in the grid of arbitrariness we're using to say where's where. It could be disorienting to think about it in too stepping-back a way. The "east"ness of orient is about rising, as the sun does in the east, and that's kin to "orchestra," via all these wild means (thanks, online etymology dictionary guy):
c.1600, "area in an ancient theater for the chorus," from Latin orchestra, from Greek orkhestra, semicircular space where the chorus of dancers performed, with suffix -tra denoting place + orkheisthai "to dance," intensive of erkhesthai "to go, come," from PIE *ergh- "to set in motion, stir up, raise" (cf. Sanskrit rghayati "trembles, rages, raves," rnoti "rises, moves," arnah "welling stream;" Old Persian rasatiy "he comes;" Greek ornynai "to rouse, start;" Latin oriri "to rise," origo "a beginning;" Gothic rinnan, Old English irnan "to flow, run"). In ancient Rome, it referred to the place in the theater reserved for senators and other dignitaries. Meaning "group of musicians performing at a concert, opera, etc." first recorded 1720; "part of theater in front of the stage" is from 1768.
Interesting about the dancing as intensified going/coming: orkheisthai "to dance," intensive of erkhesthai "to go, come."
A little more MR now. A little more MR. I orient me in time and timespace.