When I was a small boy, I would find myself captivated by the wooded hills of Southwest Pennsylvania. They were steep and high, mountains to a small boy. And the woods were deep, dark, and mysterious. Those hills were inspiring and wondrous, and deserving of a certain reverence. I couldn’t help but be awed by their beauty, even to this day.
Steven Handel reminds us that awe is a positive emotion that is, “an overwhelming feeling of amazement for something that is grand, special, or unique.”1 Awe is powerful and transformative, often experienced as connecting us to something greater than ourselves.2 Webster’s Dictionary, on the other hand, takes a more somber look at awe. Webster’s defines awe as, “an emotion variously combining dread, veneration, and wonder that is inspired by authority or by the sacred or sublime.”3 I think that Webster presents awe with a certain degree of reverence, while Mr. Handel shows us awe in its softer, more holistic self. I suspect that both are right in their own way.
When I think about the poems I’ve written over the years, I think some of the best verses were born from a sense of awe for a setting, a situation, or even a person. Whether it’s how the waves march across Lake Michigan, the horizon’s morning colors, a woman touch, or God’s presence, such things leave their mark on me. My senses are heightened. My pulse races a little faster. I breathe a little deeper. My thoughts focus a little clearer. My purpose becomes surer. I am inspired. I am in awe.
I had stated in a previous blog that poetry comes from that deepest place within, where the origin was meant to reside. The sense of awe felt when we come face to face with our origin is the key that unlocks the door to that place. We each must decide for ourselves what that origin is; at its root is the source of our contentment. In this present age, though, finding our origin can be increasingly difficult as innocence and wonderment are progressively usurped by technology and pride. In our self-serving quest for dominance, I wonder if we are not losing ourselves to that quest. With each new theory, discovery, and elective edict, we become more enraptured with our own reflection as we wander through the house of mirrors built on the fault line of human desires.
Carl Sagan on his PBS series, “Cosmos,” reminded the audience, “We’re made of star stuff, We are a way for the universe to know itself.”4 I think that Mr. Sagan, in his own way, was encouraging me to find my origin. Technology may bring me closer to my origin, but it will never supplant the awe I feel when I know and experience my origin firsthand.
A. E. Fonner
With each new theory, discovery, and elective edict, we become more enraptured with our own reflection as we wander through the house of mirrors built on the fault line of human desires.
1Handel, Steven, “The Psychology of Awe: Why We Should Seek More Mind-Bending Experiences,” (7/24/18), available at https://www.theemotionmachine.com/the-psychology-of-awe-why-you-should-seek-more-mind-bending-experiences/ on 9/12/18
2Ibid
3 Webster’s Dictionary, “Awe,” available at https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/awe, on 9/12/18.
4 The 50 Best Carl Sagan Quotes, available at http://www.curatedquotes.com/carl-sagan-quotes/, on 9/13/18.
