Everything that has been awing to me, I have felt a little uncomfortable about. Uncomfortable that makes me squirm in my seat. Rachmaninov, Poe, O'Connor, Picoult, surrealism. The dark side. It's raw and personal. It transcends bounds and makes me rethink everything. But why do the normal things not bring that awe to me? Why does the nice, neat, tied-up-in-a-bow art not inspire that feeling inside of me?
My conclusion: there must be an element of terror in the process to feel awe. John Milton said, "Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world." Milton does not address the terror. Instead he mentions gratitude and reverence. But what do we reverence? Reverence is defined as "profound adoring awed respect." But what do we respect? That can cause fear or that which we love.
ter·ror
noun \ˈter-ər, ˈte-rər\
: a very strong feeling of fear
Terror is a strong sense of fear. If we feel reverence enough, do we feel terror? Are they related? And does that cause awe?
Equation: gratitude = reverence = fear = terror = awe
But are there cases when we do not feel reverence at something and we feel awe? Or when we do not feel terror but be awed?
Terror is related to awe. Inherently in the word it is related. +Carly started this idea for me when she said, "We can be in awe of something aw(e)-ful."
aw·ful
ˈôfəl/
adjective
- 1.very bad or unpleasant."the place smelled awful"
synonyms: disgusting, horrible, terrible, dreadful, ghastly,
- 2.
The word awful as seen above can mean "inspiring, reverential wonder or fear." But the word "awful" is also related to "horrible, terrible, dreadful." The two are related in some way. As +Shelly talked about the power of God, she said, "terrifying power." The awe-inspiring power of God is also terrifying. There are two sides to it - the reverential and the terror. And they are related. But what are their bounds?
I don't know that I've found answers yet to all of my questions. Are their limits to terror and awe? And how does this complicated relationship between reverence and fear and terror and awe work out? What is the extent?
The first time I heard Rachmaninov, I got shivers. The first time I read Jodi Picoult, I spent days thinking about the book outside of reading it. The terriful art is my awe. But what are the limits?
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