“Make your own Bible. Select and collect all the words and sentences that in all your readings have been to you like the blast of a trumpet.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
First, due to Catholic guilt most likely, I feel compelled to announce I do in fact respect and believe in the teachings of the Bible. I was raised Catholic. A wise lil man, good ol Dr. Glomb to be exact, once asserted that no matter which the denomination of religion you were raised, if you search earnestly to the core and in your heart, in the higher power, you will find truth- a universal truth. We’re all in search of purpose and meaning. Of course love, compassion, grace, and humility are nestled in there as well. This is going in such a different direction than I intended- wait- I actually had no plan. That’s probably the problem. Time to veer…
The point I was getting at is RWE’s quote.. I think we are drawn to certain books, magazines, tv shows, movies, friends, places, etc.. etc.. for very specific reasons. We’re all searching. Everything we are drawn to speaks of the values we hold and the questions we carry. Sometimes the destination is known and sometimes we are placing the puzzle pieces together until the clearer picture is staring at us in the face. When we read the works and words of others, we seek to understand ourselves. We take part in the ancient tradition- take hold of the thread- the thread which weaves the magnificent tapestry of human kind- in all it’s glory, destruction, horror, and magic. Words are beautiful! Even when they evoke intense sadness, shout hate, or reflect complete despair… what a mysterious, wondrous thing that they have the power to do so.
“…And isn’t poetry itself, by its very nature, a magical or higher realism, ultimately linked to the language of religion, in that it is an attempt to utter not what is but what should be? The world almost at all times seems to me so marvelously and frighteningly “magical” that I see no particular reason to exaggerate that aspect of things. I think of Walt Whitman’s remark,
“Who speaks of miracles? I know of nothing but miracles . . .”
The imagery and the poetry I admire, and would most like to emulate, is that which is completely concrete and at the same time completely inexplicable — like reality itself!”
Margin; ExploringModern Day Magical Realism, “There is Nothing but Magic; Frank Wright on Poetry as Magical Realism,” by Wyatt Bonikowski. http://www.angelfire.com/wa2/margin/WrightQA.html.
I’m so in awe of the symphony of words, the inspiring spin of semantics that hold the potential to resonate deep within us. In all it’s monotonous, routine glory, it is a truly remarkable existance in which we live- if we choose to view it as such. As Emerson said, we need to listen.. select and collect the words that blast to us like a trumpet. By doing so we become closer to who we aspire to be.. who we were meant to be.