Sometimes when we spell words the way we pronounce them, we create a lexical conundrum. For example, a child who's learning words and how to spell them, might first spell the word "friend" as "frend," since the sounds of the word when spoken have a closer match to the latter spelling. And who could argue? After all, we don't pronounce "friend" by saying "fr-EE-end" or "fr-Y-end." Still, the English language is rife with such lexical conundrums.
Sometimes language insults our sense of logic when one word has two opposite meanings. The word "cleave," for instance, has two major meanings: to bind together and to split apart. This anomaly in semantics forces the reader or listener to depend on the situational context to determine which meaning of "cleave" fits. A lexical conundrum as this adds an extra challenge to those trying to learn English.
Our cultural environments, too, help create lexical conundrums. Author Laurie L. Seale refers to the lack of English words that accurately express shades of affection. She cites the words "love," "like," "cherish" and "adore" among the limited supply of affectionate terms. Additionally, Seale mentions the ambiguity attached to the word "love," which has different meanings for people from different backgrounds. For example, some believe love is a superior emotion that unites people even in the toughest times. For others, love is merely an intenser form of liking something, such as food. We might say we love a family member shortly after we profess our love for chocolate cake. This is another lexical conundrum.
Similar to cultural influence, our personal psychological and physical growth can help form lexical conundrums. In the book "How High Should Boys Sing?" author Martin Ashley points to various interpretations of what boyhood and manhood are, and when it is that a boy becomes a man. A boy may consider himself a "man" during that pinnacle process when he trades the "boy" voice for a deeper one. But voice changes, says Martin, usually can be discerned over a longer period of time, even from age 10 to the early 20s. So physical manhood can't be attributed to a boy whose voice "breaks." A more appropriate term for the "pre-man" voice, then, would be "child" voice -- a description more accurate and less of a conundrum.