This quote from Emerson's introduction the essay "Nature" is essentially a manifestation of the expression "to lose oneself is to find oneself", a saying, perhaps derived from Mahatma Gandhi, that has circulated anonymously in various forms to attach itself to Chinese take-out fortunes and college dorm room posters. Emerson and Gandhi alike present a paradox when they suggest that the path to self-discovery involves selflessness: How can we concurrently participate in the acts of finding and losing? How can we possibly see if we are nothing, which by definition is the absence of anything, including a vessel, such as eyes, through which to see?
I think it is easier to understand what Emerson means if we consider the idea of the self, the something that we are, to be comprised of the definitions, such that we create, that we use to judge and perceive ourselves. If we do not think ourselves to be anything, we are technically Nothing. When we liberate ourselves from our own thoughts and our self concept, we still exist as people, but we stop letting our ego dictate our feelings and sense of worth. It seems unworthy to live if you are nothing, but this supposition is one that our egos have led us to believe. We only fear non-existence because we feel as if we are something of value. Without the image of ourselves that we develop, we do not in fact have value. So, why fear non-existence if we already exist as Nothing?
Well... some of us exist as Nothing. Most of us strive to be Something. We feel better about ourselves when people tell us that we are missed when we aren't there, that the things we say are special, that the things we do are admirable and impressive. We feel worse about ourselves when we are ignored and do not perform as well as we would have liked to. When we are alone, we feel lonely. But, when you look at yourself through the lens of a "transparent eye-ball" (Emerson) as opposed to through your solid organs, you realize that you have a whole world inside you, and there is no reason to be lonely (a feeling our egos trick us into feeling as a means of preserving itself). You are "the currents of the Universal Being . . . part or particle of God" (Emerson). In other words, you are infinite once you dig under what you think you are. Once you become Nothing externally, you relish in the fact that you were Nothing all along. You were just what you see, feel, taste, hear, and touch. You can look inside your belly and see the worms that shake the soil in front of your eyes, digesting and excreting their entire surroundings. You can even see the inside of your transparent eye-ball! --- A sphere that reflects not what it sees but what it knows, and reveals to you a new eyeball that was there all along: the Earth. Its Clouds a Cornea, its Wildlife an Iris, its Water a Pupil you can dive through to reach the Dirt, - a Lens composed of infinite tiny pieces that only let you reach the Inner Core once you accept them all as one big piece that you must shove out of your vision.
Being in nature, it is the closest we can get to who we actually are. In a city, it is possible to see what we are made of, but you have to excavate all the man-made structures in your way. Before I began this post, I felt like I was going to fail to see any value in studying in the Adirondacks as opposed to Hamilton. I came here because I wanted to find out why creative people whom I can relate to continually crave to live in certain locations. I thought that if I really am going to grow, I should challenge myself to live in a stark, nearly empty, location because, even though I desperately want to live with the stimulation of a beautiful place, I should be creative enough to create something out of nothing. While this may be true, after writing about what it means to be Nothing and see all as opposed to being Something and amongst Nothing, I have a sense of why people flock to areas such as the Adirondacks. Nature is really more powerful than my own imagination.
Though it seems as if my imagination is a part of nature, perhaps it is only a part of me. My imagination is
[All summer, I was fixated on getting a tattoo with the phrase "rescued by imagination" involved. Only now am I considered just sticking to my visual idea and getting rid of the words... I think imagination is crucial to my well-being, but what is imagination anyway? I feel spreading around abstract words that are so multifariously construed. Of course, only I know the true meaning of whatever I decide to do to my body, but words are just so powerful... I misuse them constantly, and others think I have one opinion when I really think the opposite and just have not had the time and space to explain myself properly. Words come to me, so they must hold some truth. But I don't think this truth looks like words. I think whatever truth is inside of me and wriggles itself up and out of my throat to the external has more in common with what is outside. The truth inside me is part of the outside-- the nature of one-- the everything-- even while it is inside me. So, why must it come out? I think the truth has to come out because even though it is a child of nature, it does not play with nature until it is released. It tries to escape when I communicate, but it will only fully be free once this wall of my self-concept is broken down.]
... my thoughts? No, more than that. Thoughts are circular and superficial. My imagination is... my consciousness trying to escape the self-box that it is aware exists? Things form in my mind at the same time that I am aware of my own self-image. Perhaps this awareness is just what the imagination is... But isn't my imagination a product of my soul? If my soul can exist somehow after death of the body and mind (which I believe) without consciousness, then how could imagination just be our own consciousness? Maybe it is. Maybe since our imagination is so wonderful, we believe it is something more, but it is really not. It is just a contortion of the pieces of truth inside all of us, that when thrust out into nature, make up a whole Truth. When nature has power over us, we are not imagining. It is real. Everything we sense is real when we are Nothing.
So, Nature deserves a capital letter more than any other word in this essay. Even though it is one of the most misconstrued words in the English language. Even though we aim to conserve and preserve and experience and appreciate it, we are so out of touch with it. How can we respect Nature when we do not know where or what it is? It is only "human nature" to not realize what we are. We are not human, nor are we human nature, nor are we a part of Nature, nor are we Nature itself. Nature is inside us; we just have to look with a transparent eyeball.
Sometimes I'm so existential that I think it's okay to say and do anything. I am so open to whatever you have to say, that I think you will be open to whatever I have to say. Sometimes I laugh at things you don't think are funny, and it offends you. Sometimes I cry because you don't want to understand why I think it's funny. Forgive me.
A very thoughtful and interesting post, Alexa! You offer a detailed account of what it might mean to be "one with nature," which is another thing Emerson is getting at, and an idea we easily say without really having a clue what it means. You give lots of clues here!
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