Delayed Awe

There are so many things in this world that we expect to grab out attention quickly. We expect TV shows to be gripping and exciting; we go, see and do hoping for a quick thrill or instant gratification. Over the many years of my life, I've learned (and I'm still learning) that often it's the things that you have to work at that are the most rewarding or have the biggest sense of awe attached to them.

This is what happened when I read The Yellow Wallpaper.

The first time I read this story, I was 17, a senior in High School, and lazy.
It was assigned reading.
I read it (kind of).
Participated in class discussion (or attempted to).
That was it.


My second encounter with this masterpiece was in college. I think probably every English major has read this story at least once in their lives, and I am no exception. This time when I was assigned to read it, I had more of an analytic approach to it, thanks to my years of experience deconstructing English literature. My professor at the time asked questions that I'd never thought of, and got me thinking about this story in a different way.

And then we moved on to another short story.

And I forgot about it.

Until.


In the Fall of 2012 (my Junior year at BYU), I had a professor assign me a research essay that focused on the topic of horror in literature. Using The Turn of the Screw as a jumping off point, I delved into the usage of an unreliable narrator. This story popped into my mind. And for two weeks of my life I read this story through every possible analytic lens.

I tore it apart.

Dug into it.

Analyzed every word.

And at one point, I think I might have actually gone a little bit crazy myself.

But I connected with this story in a way that I've never quite connected with something else.

And in that moment when I finally understood the story,

I
was
BLOWN
away.

The way that I came to know this story was so detailed and intimate that I could not help but connect with the main character.
I got inside her head.
Learned everything I could about her.
And when I found parts of her in me, I couldn't help but cry.
Because...

Sometimes I feel trapped in my own mind.
I feel like I'm caving to the pressures of society.

And I knew how she felt.


Sometimes awe doesn't come to us the first time we read, watch or experience something. Sometimes it takes contemplation, study and work to find awe in things that could otherwise be discarded as interesting but not noteworthy.

Sometimes the most powerful experiences that we have with awe are the experiences that we
make
for
ourselves.