#184 Emerson
When I arrived in Montana in 1996, the greatest experience was to find books about anything I wanted to read. My upbringing limited the books I consumed, but I was free to reward my thirst at the university library.
I discovered Ralph Waldo Emerson. He is one of the pioneering thinkers in the then newly founded United States. I read something that made an impression on me. I even quoted him a few weeks ago (story #173 Lighthouse). This comes from “Nature”, a groundbreaking essay written by him in 1836.
However, there was something uncomfortable. Some of his beliefs clashed with beliefs I had been given when growing up. Emerson didn’t believe in a God who is far remote in heaven, but instead, he believes that the divine is present through nature.
I have a long-distance friend, a gift from life. Last weekend, she sent me a message telling me about a book that had come with a good recommendation. The title is “Three Roads Back” telling the stories through grief of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, and William James. The synopsis mentions, “For Emerson, it was the death of his young wife […]”. I had to buy it on the spot.
Emerson was a minister, but then his wife died very young. He dwelled on this and visited his wife’s grave daily. After a while, he quits being a minister and makes a long trip to Europe. He visited many cities and connected with many people on the way.
After some time he reached Paris. He went to the Jardin Des Plantes, the main botanical garden in France. Reportedly, this was the single intense moment that made him cross the threshold away from his old beliefs into something new. He started seeing there the interconnectedness between all things. It was an epiphany. He wrote the foundations of his essay, Nature, not so long after.
I read Nature again. I could see myself in 1996 discovering this and reading that text about the stars. There is nothing uncomfortable this time: I understand what he went through.
As destiny would have it, I am making next week a trip with the boys to Paris. The hotel I picked almost two months ago is just a 20-minute walk from the Jardin des Plantes. Maybe we’ll have our epiphany then.
