Delicate Arch, Arches National Park, Utah(Bold emphasis in the excerpt below is mine.)
"There are the inevitable pious Midwesterners who climb a mile and a half under the desert sun to view Delicate Arch and find only God ("Goldangit Katherine, where's my light meter, this glare is turrible"), and the equally inevitable students of geology who look at the arch and see only Lyell and the uniformity of nature. You may therefore find proof for or against His existence. Suit yourself. You may see a symbol, a sign, a fact, a thing without meaning or a meaning which includes all things.
Much the same could be said of the tamarisk down in the canyon, or the blue-black raven croaking on the cliff, of your own body. The beauty of Delicate Arch explains nothing, for each thing in its own way, when true to its own character, is equally beautiful. (There is no beauty in nature, said Baudelaire. A place to throw empty beer cans on Sunday, said Mencken.) If Delicate Arch has any significance it lies, I will venture, in the power of the odd and unexpected to startle the senses and surprise the mind out of their ruts of habit, to compel us into a reawakened awareness of the wonderful--that which is full of wonder.
A weird, lovely, fantastic object out of nature like Delicate Arch has the curious ability to remind us--like rock and sunlight and wind and wilderness--that out there is a different world, older and greater an deeper by far than ours, a world which surrounds and sustains the little world of men as sea and shy surround and sustain a ship. The shock of the real. For a little while we are again able to see, as the child sees, a world of marvels. For a few moments we discover that nothing can be taken for granted, for if this ring of stone is marvelous then all which shaped it is marvelous, and our journey here on earth, able to see and touch and hear in the midst of tangible and mysterious things-in-themselves, is the most strange and daring of all adventures."
--Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire
"Suit yourself. You may see a symbol, a sign, a fact, a thing without meaning or a meaning which includes all things."
ReplyDeleteExactly.
Wow! That is some fantastic quote.
ReplyDeleteVal, you got ir. :)
ReplyDeleteRT, I thought so too. :)
Thank you both.
Here's something I have always wondered: what is the purpose of awe? We know the purpose of hunger and thirst, curiosity and fear, exhiliration after exercise and weariness at the end of the day: they all act to enhance our survival in one way or another. The fact that food is enjoyable helps assure we are properly nourished, for example. But what of awe? What is the practical significance of awe or appreciation for beauty in whatever form or the respect for grandeur we may feel? If it is merely to be experienced and enjoyed, why have humans evolved to seek these feelings out?
ReplyDeleteA very good question, Barbara. I don't claim an answer. But I suspect you may have one in mind that you're not offering us. ;)
ReplyDeletePeace
I've never seen the Delicate Arch but I have seen for myself the Azure Window in Malta which is pretty spectacular. When I saw it, I didn't think of God. If I'd been drinking beer, I doubt if I would have considered throwing the empty can through the window. I probably did feel some sense of awe.
ReplyDeleteThe term 'awesome' is overused these days - and I'm probably just as guilty as the next person.
Right now I've opened the window to listen more clearly to a pheasant crowing good morning. I just heard his wings in flight which is an *awesome* sound. I must admit to feeling awe on a fairly regular basis: looking at Tamarack cones and bog flowers in springtime... a nest of baby Snowshoe Hares in the rose bush in summertime... sparkles on snow in winter... my beautiful sons and my *awesome* grandson...
I wonder: Could some of us be more 'wired' for experiencing awe than others? If there's a 'God' gene, then it's probably connected in some way to the 'awe' gene.
If there's any purpose to awe, it's in making us feel part of something outside of ourselves that's both bigger than us, but also connected to us. Maybe awe is what will inspire us to preserve this planet.
flandrumhill,
ReplyDeleteThank you for offering these thoughts. You make me think....
I agree with you that the word "awesome" in modern parlance has come to be cheapened to the point of almost losing all meaning, bt it's constant overuse for things that are not really awe-inspiring in the least, but just "cool" or we happen to like them. Well, such is the evolution of language.... Usage ultimately determines meaning.