Morgans transcendentalist Essay (rough)

Emerson Powder essay

Morgan Osborne

With out a true blizzard since years before locals are un controllably antsy. Rumors circulated through the town, “the storm of the century.” Before a storm even hits, there is a connection only an individual alone can feel with nature. There’s no way to experience a day like a powder day second handed, and there’s no way to teach the feeling of a powder day. Every soul across the mountain was connected directly to nature.

The powder day was everything and more than the rumors. School was cancelled and every local was on the mountain. Ski shops were sold out no one had fat enough skis for the chest deep snow. Do I contradict myself? Can I truly connect with nature, if I can’t experience nature with out the best technology?

Today, the next run, the next line, are the only thoughts running through the minds of these innocent loving humans. Today may have been the first day in over five months these people haven’t had a thought about yesterday, or the week before, or even ten years before. But is this the only time people are focused in the moment connected alone with nature, are people only appreciative and connected if gifted? 

No matter where I was the snow was rushing into my face like a water fall rushing into rocks. The Snow kept falling with fresh tracks with every run.  At points I couldn’t breath or see, but I had no care in the world I was alone experiencing the greatest gift of centuries. Grinning ear to ear there was no thought of the past or future only the moment, looking back there isn’t a time I’ve been happier.

Caught by extreme surprise threw my snow filled goggles I saw three older men trudging through the chest deep snow across one of the more popular runs. Alone at the time I stopped it seemed as if my group had disappeared and I was truly alone in the woods, except for these speechless men trudging in the chest deep snow. One dressed in the oddest of clothes and the others in older warn warm clothes. I spoke but no response, I clanked my poles- they looked at me but said nothing. Confused I slowly approached the men, the one dressed in the odd bright clothes with the bright blue top hat spoke out, I couldn’t understand.  Feet away now, I could understand. These men must have been the most confrontational, friendly people I have ever met. Following them deeper into the woods they started a small fire in which I was invited to gather around, two of the men disappeared as I was left alone with the oddest of the group.

Searching the surroundings my eyes traced up and down every natural cell. It seemed as if I was watching nature through the eyes of an elder, thoughts crossed my mind that would have never crossed my mind ten minutes ago. I looked at my skis in disgust, I seemed to have rather watched nature than play in it. “What’s your name young fella” Morgan Osborne I responded yours? “I am Ralph Waldo Emerson.” No, that can’t be I have studied you in school, I have read many of your essays and question them all. “School, you go to school and learn what I wrote in the past.”  “Yes I did,” “if you were to have learned one thing from my writing why weren’t you writing your own work, coming up with your own ways alone in this beautiful beast we sit in today, called nature?” I couldn’t come up with an answer I stuttered, the words couldn’t come out of my mouth. I thought for a second and thought; if I were to follow his instructions, why can’t I come up with my own ideas and write essays to influence society for years to come.  Wouldn’t this be genius, from the Self-Reliance essay.

Thoughts rushed to my head, Emerson sat across the fire waiting for an answer as the snow fell on his shoulders like white feathers from a dove falling from the sky. I asked if our society is not supposed to be retrospective why did you publish inspirational essays studied in schools today.” You think I wrote those essays to inspire decades later; no I didn’t even think about education in this era.”

“Do you think I inspire today? If I inspired today why are these people out here with hundreds of other people, enjoying nature for the first time in many years.” I was at a lost again, it was exactly like siting in my AP Literature class but more surreal. He was right we weren’t out here learning from nature, we were learning from each other, today, yesterday, the year before. We are learning from the “best” all the time.

“Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.” I agree we shall all write our own history, but is it not almost impossible to not be sparked by another, were you not given any ideas from any one else? “No, my ideas came from my findings of the transcending with nature.”

I looked him in the eye with an instinct of non reality.  Emerson- you have sparked a fire under me. I don’t believe a lot of your beliefs and I will not live by your beliefs but I will write my own beliefs, and inspire those around me. The image in front of me faded, the snow seemed to fall faster and harder. Emersons basic outline was still there against the white backdrop. “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.” And that was the last I saw and heard from Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Left with a whole lot of ideas and writers block I sat at a rose wood table staring blankly at computer screen sipping a steamy hot coffee.  

Round and Rugged

Sophia Green
AP Lit
transcendentalist essay

Round and Rugged

It started with female problems.

Or well, that’s what I told my 8th grade gym teacher because he was a he and if you started to say the word “cramps” he would cringe and give you whatever you wanted. The truth was I just forgot my gym clothes.

Walt Whitman once wrote, “Tenderly will I use you curling grass”. I’m not sure if my use of the great, often overlooked stretches of green where what the poet intended, that phrase is the essence of what I learned that day.

We were supposed to be playing golf. All twenty students in my class lined on the far field of the middle school, growing hands clumsy around golf clubs. The metal handles caught hard streaks of yellow light in the sun. For weeks I’d been tired, sleep hitching in the back of my thoughts and in the near constant headaches. The brightness wasn't helping. So I went off to the side behind the putters and laid down in the grass.

Any positive adjective you could skim from the top of your mind would do to describe what came next.

I could feel the sun soak into the thin skin of my eyelids. I could see the it turn my vision red with purple blobs of shifting clouds. The grass was cool and coarse under my arms, the chatter and wind swung me into the point between sleep and wakefulness.

Soon enough the bell rang and I blinked back to reality. The funny thing about laying in the sun is that when you open your eyes everything is black and white for a little while, like you just came back from some far, far away place.

To my amazement, my headache was gone.

  This was the beginning of a long line of memories that led me to conclude that for all the stacks of pills and complicated orders of chemicals in modern medicine the best cure is often found in nature.

  When I first discovered the seemly magical properties of lying in the grass I had a whole slew of undiagnosed health problems. Iron deficiency, lyme disease, Hypothyroid. The list was long enough that I had started poking jokes that I may be secretly inbred.

Sure, I popped enough advil in those years to most likely cause premature liver deterioration, but what really helped me was being outside. Whether it was a stomach ache or a throbbing behind my left eye, I’d come home from school, take off my shoes and flop on the ground until I felt better.

  There was this giant old willow on the edge of my neighbor's property. I use to burrow into the moss that patched around it roots and just rest, watching the occasional ant skitter over a fallen leaf. I’d procrastinate my return to society for good chunks of time, so much so that my mom came looking for me on more than one occasion.

It always helped. I tried doxycycline, an army of different supplements, thyroid hormones and adderall. But nothing made me feel better than the trees and the grass and the ocean and the rain. “Simplify, simplify, simplify,” indeed.

  I wasn't the only one. I currently have a dog named Skyler, whom I frequently make squeaky noises at and profess my love to. I treated his predecessor Rufus the much in the same way. We got Rufus when I was two so I really don’t remember my life before him. When my beloved fluffball (one of his many nicknames, albeit not my most original) was eight we discovered he had nose cancer.

  The animal hospital suggested radiation therapy, a treatment which would have exuberant fees, require the dog to be sedated and quarantined for days, and may not even work. It was less than appealing to say the least. However, for a number of years we had been going to a holistic (all natural) veterinarian. When Rufus went in for a checkup, the doctor gave him one of his “magic potions” as we called them. It came in a little black bottle and was made of unpronounceable herbs. It had to be mixed in water and squirted up poor Rufy’s nose. This entirely unpleasant experience that mostly fell to my Mom.

Rufus lived for another two years because of that magic potion.

I have a friend who’s a yoga master. Her name is Sasha, she’s in her mid thirties and she once  met a guy in the woods whom she dated for three years. That’s all the relevant background information, other than that she’s one of the few people the word “spunky” can be applied to in all seriousness.

Once upon a time in a land of hemp mats and bare-feet, Sasha got sick. It was just a virus, but one she couldn't seem to kick. Antibiotics left her feeling drained and shaking, the more pills she took the worse she seemed to get. So she visited, of all people, an amazonian healer.

  She described him as a large man with dark skin and a white beard that crinkled over his tribal patterned tattoos when he smiled. He’d pried open a brightly color frog’s mouth and used a needle to suck away some of it’s venom. In short, he injected Sasha with the venom in six round circles on her calf. Supposedly it was very painful.

But it worked. Sasha said she’d never felt better in her life. After three treatments, she was back to her usual and very bouncy self.

The examples of nature exceeding the capabilities of modern medicine pile up into a mound roughly the size of Santa Claus following Christmas eve. This may not have been what Emerson, or Thoreau, or Walt were thinking of when they gushed about Mother Nature’s various perfections. But it certainly applies, and I’d like to think that those days I nearly fall asleep in the sun, the transcendentalists would be proud of me.

  Maybe they’re even in the grass beneath me stitching the scattered thing in my bones back together.

Benni's Transcendentalist Essay

Benni Solomon

I live in a town full of adventurous, athletic, nature-loving people, but it seems as if none of us can do any outdoor activities without purchasing excessive amounts of clothing and equipment. For example, each skier owns a couple jackets, maybe a few pairs of skis, and every other accessory one could purchase. One would think by purchasing more accessories and equipment it would enhance the experience, but this is deceptive. This goes for nearly every outdoor activity, and not just in Telluride. Although I have fallen victim to such materialism, I myself have spent time alone with nature, outdoors in the wilderness, connecting with the environment around me, and doing so has taught me the most important lessons my life. This is something everyone should do in his or her lifetime. Thoreau would agree, he said, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” Nature is the best place for someone to truly find themselves and seek direction in life. Only in the calming silence and peacefulness of nature one can pursue happiness. Thoreau also stated, “I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” I agree that when someone is alone they are their true self, and being fake to try to accommodate society camouflages one’s true self.  However, too much solitude is not necessarily a good thing either. It’s just to seek some direction in life. Once this is achieved, then success is found and happiness is attained. “If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with success unexpected in common hours.” That’s Thoreau’s philosophical 17^th century way of saying what I indicated. Sometimes being a “loner” is healthy; too much influence from other people hides one’s true personality, or ego. Everyone in the world who calls themselves adventurous could learn from this and apply it to life. Once a person finds their true calling, then their options are limitless. “This world is but a canvas to our imagination.” What Thoreau meant by that was we are limitless, and we can take our lives wherever we feel necessary. Emerson emphasized, “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail,” Originality is key, “you were born an original, don’t die a copy.”

            There are certain days and moments in my life when I feel so involved with whatever outdoor activity I’m doing that all of my materialistic desires disappear. I often bike with my dad, or ski with my team or friends. One day in particular my best friend Jake and I decided to wake up early and go skiing.

            It was the first day of Christmas break, we were twelve years old, and it was unusual that I didn’t have ski practice, so I called Jake the night before and we planned to meet up early. We got lucky because it had snowed the night before and it was sunny all day. It was the perfect ski day. Year after year we talked about the best place to build a big jump onto a powder landing. That was our mission. We both had a spot in mind. It was on a closed run under lift 12. If the ski patrol caught us our passes would be confiscated, but if not, we would have a glorious day showing off for the tourists on the lift. I grabbed two shovels from my house and we were off. That was the first time I can remember when I was living in the moment and loving the outdoors more than ever. Nothing could kill my mood, not even how wet and freezing my feet were all day because we had to walk across town to the gondola, not even losing a glove and having to buy another pair. I was happy. Truly blissful.

            Our journey to the jump site began with a few laps in the terrain park to warm up. Then we rode lift five to get into prospect bowl, then scoped out the jump site while on lift twelve. After one glance at that perfect powder landing, our red snow-covered chubby twelve-year-old faces lit up. We both had a shovel in one hand and our poles in the other. The ten powder turns down to the knoll assured us of how awesome this day was going to be. We scoped out the area for about ten minutes, and then anchored our skis into the snow to create a platform for the jump. It took about an hour of backbreaking shoveling, but we eventually had a satisfying pile of snow. I put my skis on and stomped out the transition and in-run while Jake stomped out the jump. After 30 minutes of letting the jump harden, we couldn’t wait any longer. After another five minutes of arguing who got to go first, we did a best two out of three rock paper scissors for it. I won and Jake stood by the jump with a camera. I was sweating and my goggles were too fogged to see out of, so I left them by the jump. Jake gave me a wave, and I was off. My eyes were tearing up and I couldn’t see the jump. I didn’t care because I knew how soft the landing was. I relished this moment, as I took in the silence and surreal feeling of nature surrounding me and my best friend, nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. The jump took me by surprise, and I was swinging my arms in circles and running through the air. I must’ve looked like the biggest spaz in the world. For that split moment in the air, I felt weightless and blissful. I felt like one of those guys in a ski movie. I punched into the snow to where only the top of my helmet was visible. As I emerged I heard cheers from the chairlift and Jake looked at me with an ear-to-ear grin. My face was frozen and caked in snow, but I could care less. Although I only shared it with my best friend and some strangers, this was the best moment of my life, defined by nature.

            We trekked through the snow and arrived back on the ski run.  Entering the lodge was somewhat of a shock to my system. As I re-entered civilization, our special experience in the woods by ourselves became a mere memory. All of our friends and a variety of tourists were dressed in their colorful outfits, on cell phones, eating excessive amounts of foods. I noticed that all these people were just there to ski and eat and not gain experience with nature necessarily. I was starving but didn’t feel like eating. I wanted to go back to woods and be alone in nature with Jake again. But, my freezing toes and hands got the better of me, and I opted for a hot chocolate with marshmallows.  As I contentedly sipped my cocoa and absentmindedly burnt my tongue, I smiled inside and realized I could enjoy some material benefits of skiing at a World Class ski resort, but still be myself and enjoy nature alone or with friends whenever I desire. From that point forward, I had confidence in myself that removing myself from my regular routine of school, soccer, friends and material possessions is good for my soul, helps me obtain harmony and makes me happy.

Karley's Transcendentalist Essay 2013 (rough draft)

Karley Guthmiller

September 29, 2013

AP Lit

Mr. Lavender

Transcendentalist Essay 2013 (rough draft) 

            A wise man named Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child. The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood. His intercourse with heaven and earth, becomes part of his daily food. In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nature says, — he is my creature, and maugre all his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad with me.”  To me nature is an aspect of life worth living for; it speaks out to me in a way where I understand it and look at its point of view. It sends emotions of adrenalin and compassion racing through my mind and body when steeping in to it. Nature is able to factor out reality so I can walk into the light and enjoy its presence as I disregard society and the technology and stress that comes with it.

            There are many ways nature can affect someone. For me nature just keeps climbing and surprising me every chance I get from the smallest cricket chirping to a white blizzard. Nature can be as simple as walking outside and feeling the brisk wind brush up against your face and fly through your hair to hiking a fourteen thousand foot mountain. Now I admit I do not appreciate nature as much as I should or like to, but to be blunt, I just do not have time to. If I could, I would spend every minute outside enjoying God’s magnificent creations.

            I enjoy nature through snowmobiling, hiking, running, hunting, four wheeling, wakeboarding and even just an occasional walk with my dog. There are so many ways one can enjoy nature. My all time favorite way is hunting. There are so many critical details you notice when you are up in the mountains from scouting out your prey to pulling the trigger at the right time and place. Emerson says, “To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society.” Nature is my chamber I retire to when I need to escape the wrath of society. .To enjoy nature, you must enjoy it as if it was the last thing on Earth.

            When I wake up in the morning and stare at the pitch black morning sky, I think to myself, how spectacular this experience is. Many people don’t get to have those kinds of Kodak moments because they are too wrapped up in society and its problems. Nature has endless beauties like the mountains, animals, trees, skies and so many more.

            As I start climbing up the mountain, I use light made by man himself to help guide me into the darkness. Then later when the sunrise comes, the lights go off and nature starts to speak to me. While climbing up the steep slope, I start to see nature at its finest. I see the small pebbles on the ground all clumped together, the huge boulders on the sides of the mountains, the trees waving hi, the wind whipping at my face and of course I hear animals greeting one another.

            There’s a saying that goes, you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone. This is perfect for nature, because it’s the cold hard truth. Right now the beetle kill is terrible and now people are trying to save the trees, before man y people thought they were just trees, but not anymore. Nature is a part of everyone whether they  know it or not. It takes something special for us to realize what’s in front of our eyes; in this case it’s the wonders nature has to offer. Nature can be outside your house, in the forest and even by the ocean. Nature is something that wants to be heard and is ignored too often.

            Nature can be described as more than just trees, rocks, mountains, grass and dirt. When I’m out hunting I can look over my shoulder and see the outlining of my tracks in the snow. When I get to different terrain, I can feel the crunching of the leaves up underneath my boots screaming let me out. I can feel the trees brushing up against my back saying, ouch, don’t touch me. When the sun becomes brighter, I can see the Irish green, goddess gold, blazing orange and stop sign red leaves frolicking around in every which direction as if they were slaves that had just been freed.  

As I look around, I cannot see, but I can hear the river roaring like a lion as if it was defending pride rock. If I stay still and quiet as a mouse I can use my hawk eyes to scope out elk or deer. (TO BE CONTINUED…)

Danny's Transcendentalist Assignment

Danny File

Sept. 29, 2013

AP Lit.

Mr. Lavender

Transcendentalist Assignment

            “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron sting.” Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote this in his essay Self-Reliance, published in 1841. He was stating that people need to trust their own judgments and not rely on those of others; for that is the only way we can continue living. There is nothing wrong with getting opinions or assistance from someone else, but we all must make our own decisions. After all, no one can live life for you; you have to do it yourself. This idea is one I would apply to my own life. Whether it’s at home or at school, I need to trust in who I am and what I am capable of.

            In some cases, people lose so much faith in themselves that they start to mimic others, thinking that their lives must be better. Emerson addressed this idea in his essay, Self-Reliance, when he said, “There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide...”  Envy is ignorance because it shows how little we are aware of what we have or who we are. Instead of being grateful for our many talents and gifts, we envy those of others. Imitation is suicide because the more we act like someone else, the less we exist as our own person. The old life starts to be replaced by the new. In other words, we kill who we really are. 

            Every now and then, I find myself guilty of the crimes that Emerson depicts. Sometimes, I’ll look at the grades, fitness, or good looks of my peers and wish I had those for myself. I am ignorant of the many blessing I have, and become envious. Additionally, I will sometimes try to mimic the attitude, actions, or personality of someone else. I feel that I would have more friends if I acted like them, so I stop acting like myself. I need to look at my life and thank God for the many things I have and the person that I am, instead of becoming someone I’m not.

            Emerson was not the only writer to address the idea of personal identity; Henry David Thoreau, another transcendentalist, gave his perspective on the matter. In 1854 Thoreau published Walden, in which he said, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” (This started out as a journal, so the “I” in the story is Thoreau.) He is saying that he had to get out of all the distractions of society to truly live life and learn its meaning. Thoreau later says, “Our life is frittered away by detail,” and also, “Keep your accounts on your thumb-nail,” He is implying that life is not lived to its true potential when we add so much extra detail. All the activities of the day should be able to fit on my thumb-nail. With so much extra material, it can be hard to look past the smoke and mirrors to see the true picture.

            This is definitely something that I have a problem with. It would take hundreds of thumb-nails to keep track of everything I have on my schedule. According to Thoreau, I’m not really living life. Unless you’ve lived life to its full, then you haven’t found your full potential. Could it be true that these many details are hiding my true identity and keeping me from my potential? To reveal who I really am, I need to dig through and remove all the clutter.

            “I celebrate myself……My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, hoping to cease not till death.” This quote was written by Walt Whitman in his essay Song of Myself. Whitman is able to look at the aspects of his life and say “I celebrate.” He sees who he is and what he’s become, and he’s proud. This can, however, be dangerous when it leads to extreme pride, self-righteousness, and a sense of superiority. We do not want to put ourselves above everyone else, but we do want to “celebrate” ourselves and who God has made us to be.

            There are times when people will say things about me and it makes me feel depressed and unsure of myself. I’ll look at myself and at my life and feel like nobody. For some extreme cases, people get so depressed that they will commit suicide. I need to be able to follow Whitman’s example and be proud of who I am. There are two sides to this: I want to proud of my life, and I don’t want to do anything I’m not proud of.

            Whitman, Emerson, and Thoreau were great men with great ideas. They, and all other transcendentalists, gave the world a new way of thinking. Many of their ideas can and should be applied to our lifestyles. I believe, however, that the subjects of identity and trusting yourself are some of the most important that were addressed. I am going to listen to their advice and apply it to my life. By trusting myself, by being my own person, by removing the distraction in my life, and by being proud of who I am, I am going to become a better person. 

It worked!

Welcome to a New School Year!

While I know that this blog is a bit dated, I've kept it active for those of you who might want to go back and read some of your predecessors' posts.  We'll be using this blog in some cases to post rough drafts and review them; however, this will mostly be devoted to recording our initial impressions of our readings, and to review and comment upon our classmates' views.

Here's looking forward to a great year of blogging!

Mr. L.