Savoring The Sublime
Evil is that which distracts
“If, then, I were asked for the most important advice I could give, that which I considered to be the most useful to the men of our century, I should simply say: in the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.”
— Leo Tolstoy
I once traveled to Florence, Italy. When I got off the train, turned a corner and saw the great Cathedral appear, I couldn't help but start laughing.1 Overwhelming awe. But sometimes looking at an ordinary tree can have the same effect. Or the sky. Or listening to music. Songs like Don’t Stop Me Now, Baba Yetu, and Drift Away do weird things to my body. A sweet shiver slides down my neck as the hair on my arms spike. It’s like a pleasurable lightning bolt getting shot down my spine.2 I find it mysterious how beautiful art can have such physiological effects.
I’ve realized that the enemy of magical experiences like this is distraction. It could be your own thoughts. Too much ruminating on the past or fantasizing about the future can block you from the sublime in the present moment. Or perpetual preoccupation with the profane; like petty gossip, or maybe something relating to your job. Or of course the infinite amusements taps away on your Wizard Rectangle.3 In any case, the tragedy of incessant distraction is one of missing out on truly appreciating beauty.
Prince Myshkin for example, that guy truly appreciated beauty. He never would have been too distracted to be deeply immersed in the sublime. He even said that beauty that will save the world. It’s easy to agree with him when I’m looking at a Renaissance Church. However—and I think our prince would agree—there is infinite beauty to contemplate. Everywhere. Every day. If you would only look.
The best compliment I’ve ever received was that I’m a great admirer or beauty.
“To understand music, you must listen to it. But so long as you are thinking, ‘I am listening to this music,’ you are not listening.”
— Alan Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity
For some time I’ve been pitching that we should call phones Wizard Rectangles instead of phones, as I believe calling magical supercomputers phones is a misnomer. It hasn’t caught on.
Marcus knew what was up:
“And anyone with a feeling for nature—a deeper sensitivity—will find it all gives pleasure. Even what seems inadvertent. He’ll find the jaws of live animals as beautiful as painted ones or sculptures. He’ll look calmly at the distinct beauty of old age in men, women, and at the loveliness of children. And other things like that will call out to him constantly—things unnoticed by others. Things seen only by those at home with Nature and its works.”
Meditations, Marcus Aurelius, Book 3, 2
I had that same experience! A burst of astonishment the first time I saw Notre Dame in Paris. And I agree that nature can have the same effect. "the tragedy of incessant distraction is one of missing out on truly appreciating beauty." : )