It’s taken me almost 36 years of being a native English speaker to wonder why “awesome” describes something great and “awful” describes something horrible.
What gives?
According to The Word Detective, the word “awe” first appeared around the 13th century and the original meaning of ‘awe’ in English was “fear, terror, or dread.” Use of the word in reference to religious belief eventually led to a modified sense of “awe” in which “fear” was mixed with veneration. This religious “awe” was, by the 18th century, expanded to include a deep emotional response to extraordinary natural phenomena such as great storms, majestic waterfalls, and huge trees.
The word “awful” appeared in the 13th century to describe something that was full-of-awe and then took took a sharp detour in the early 1800s, and began to be used to mean not “inspiring great dread and humility,” but simply “very bad, scary or loathsome.”
Interestingly, the world “awesome” never took that detour. But perhaps, even more interestingly, awesome and awful are not as far apart as we might think.
We’re currently in “The Days of Awe,” the 10 days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. So far these days have felt both awesome and awful. There are definitely some strong forces at work.
Hadassah and I took a last minute trip to San Francisco. Isaak and I found ourselves with a lot of work this week and no childcare lined up, so I flew to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I always somehow end up in San Francisco during the High Holy Days. This place is such a mirror for me.
This time we brought the smoke from the Anvil Fire, near Port Orford, with us. My mom turned on the news to find out more about the smoke forecast and I cried about the state of the world, the world my daughter has inherited, with Hadassah in my lap. She’s so pure and full of joy.
After my cry, I felt better like a cleansing rain on a wildfire. I’ve been feeling inflamed in my body and brain. I have tools and practices that help with inflammation, but it’s hard to do them when I’m away from home. It’s not lost on me that the Earth is inflamed, too.
We went to an hour of services on Erev Rosh Hashanah last Friday before Hadassah’s bedtime. It was just enough time to hear some great zingers from the Rabbi. Like, we don’t need to say, “Happy New Years, to those of you who celebrate” because it is the New Year. One Earthly cycle is ending and another one is about to begin.
The next morning we went up to the mountain to harvest elderberries. We will turn the fruit of one cycle into medicine to keep us healthy during this next cycle.
It’s in this liminal time where we’re asked to get real with ourselves. It’s not like the New Year’s resolutions in January where we vow to drink green juice and go to the gym. This is a time to see where we’re playing small in our lives. What ways of being do we need to shed so that we can step more fully into our true purpose?
It’s uncomfortable to really look and none of this can happen without our hearts cracking open. Maybe you tend to avoid heart break at all cost, but it’s not like a broken leg or a broken ceramic mug. When our hearts break, they open.
This Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is called Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat of Return. We’re asked to return to ourselves, to our relations, and to the world. Turn towards and not away.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year, if you celebrate!
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