Gettin’ Plity with it

**Why I’m Keeping Paralillity — And Introducing “Plity”**

Every once in a while, a concept arrives that feels exactly right when spoken aloud… and impossibly awkward when typed. Paralillity is one of those concepts.

If you’ve been following my work on Relational Anthropology and the emerging Relational Field Theory, you’ve seen this word appear again and again. It names the internal architecture of multiplicity — the way multiple truths, histories, meanings, and scales can coexist inside a single person or field without collapsing into contradiction. It’s the opposite of duality. It’s the opposite of flattening. It’s the opposite of “pick one.”

It’s the lived experience of more‑than‑one‑thing‑being‑true‑at‑once.

And when I say the word, it lands.
When I type it… my fingers stage a small rebellion.

So I want to name that out loud.

The Word Stutters — And That’s Part of the Truth

Typing paralillity feels like a stumble: the double‑L, the echo, the tiny glitch in the middle. But that “stutter” isn’t a flaw. It’s actually a perfect mirror of the concept itself.

Paralillity is:

layered
echoic
branching
parallel
slightly disorienting in the best way
a word that refuses to collapse into a single line

The written form behaves like the ontology.
The word performs its own meaning.

So I’m keeping it.

But I’m Also Introducing a Shorthand: plity

Because language is relational, and because writing is a physical act, I’m also offering a compact, symbolic shorthand:

plity (paralillity)

Plity is the written “spore” of the concept — a small, clean, easy‑to‑type form that still carries the core meaning. It’s the version you’ll see in diagrams, notes, and quick references. It’s the symbol that points back to the full word without replacing it.

Think of it the way American Sign Language uses gesture:
a compressed form that still holds the whole idea.

Why This Matters

Relational Field Theory is built on the idea that meaning is not static. It moves. It adapts. It lives in the body, the field, the moment. Naming the friction between the spoken and written forms of a concept is part of honoring its relational truth.

By keeping paralillity and introducing plity, I’m acknowledging:

the sound
the feel
the embodied resonance
the practical reality of typing
the symbolic life of the concept

This is how living theories evolve.

So from here forward…

When you see plity, know that it’s pointing to the full concept of paralillity — the ontology of multiplicity that underpins the entire paradigm.

And when you see paralillity, know that the word is doing exactly what it was born to do:
refusing to flatten, refusing to simplify, refusing to collapse.

It’s a word that insists on being itself.

And honestly?
That feels right.