Poetic Void

This morning Max, Henry and I attended the Auburn UU service. (As I am working from home, I am trying to find people-my kind of people) Really, I attended the service while Max and Henry hung out in the nursery. Today's message was centered around Margaret Fuller, as it was her 200th birthday. If you are like me, you probably are wondering who is Margaret Fuller? Well, she was a 19th century Journalist, intellect and women's rights advocate. She had this really fascinating career working as an editor of the Dial for Ralph Waldo Emerson and as a columnist and war correspondent for the New York Tribune. Essentially she wanted women to be able to think for themselves and for five years hosted "conversation" salons to encourage women to develop one's self.

Two things struck me about the UU service. The first being the focus on love and peace. I know that is kind of cheesy but really it is like Elvis Costello sang, "What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love, and Understanding." When the children of parents are allowed to leave after the first third of the service, the fellowship sings this short little bit to the exiting children, "May your mind be open to new learning, may your words bring truth into the world, may your heart know love and your hands do justice. As you go your way in peace." Nothing dogmatic; just compassionate.

The second being the focus on literature. Emerson, Thoreau, William Henry Channing. These names and their work are mentioned and read often. The minister reflected on Ms. Fuller's life with this, what I have now found to be, famous quotation referred to as "This is to be my Symphony"

To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not, rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common--this is my symphony.

WILLIAM HENRY CHANNING.

And so I am now left feeling a certain poetic void. I have spent most of adult life learning and practicing engineering, whose texts are not concerned with transcendentalism and Peace and Love. I only took a couple of literary courses as an undergraduate. And now, I think I might be a bit like one of those woman who may have attended Ms. Fuller's salon for the first time. While I consider myself informed, I guess it is time to invest in broadening my literary bounds beyond Jane Austen and my modern day authors. This new effort is not based on a feeling of inadequacy; it is a quest to address an intellectual cavity.