I ponder if an increased capacity for silence correlates to an increased capacity for awe.
When I hike a mountain and discover myself confronted by the majesty of an elegant sprawling vista and “wow”, “oh my god” and “holy fucking amazing” slip from my lips, is this the profound presence of beauty overloading my nervous system and off-gassing though words? Is it my mind’s effort to soften the awe to a more manageable state through involuntary sublimation into speech; permanently reducing the impact of the encounter by downshifting it from transcendence into a non-specific sound representation of a state now given away from myself through the act of speaking?
Could an increased capacity for silence correlate to an increased capacity for awe?
But I also wonder, if no sounds were made, if no words are spoken, no stories told, no art crafted, if the wonder isn’t sublimated into an artifact of interpersonal exchange outside in the inner subjective experience, is it lost? Does it slip away from the mind in time like a dream unspoken upon waking? Where is the middle ground?
If I speak too soon, I lose it; if I speak too late, it’s already gone.
Did I time this one right?