We use some figures of speech so often that we forget about the deep insights buried in them. For each word in this series, I’ll uncover how the central metaphor brings together its various meanings. I want to illuminate the full beauty of these mysterious gems that we tread on like gravel.
I’m starting with resonance because it’s the vehicle by which metaphors take root. Resonance, physically, is when the vibration of one object activates another. Similarly, a metaphor can activate meaning across two things that may seem very different.
I always marvel at the simplicity of “Dreams” by Langston Hughes:
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Magic.
Resonance
Resonance is an inner recognition that you are inseparable from what you witness, a visceral yes. When something strikes a chord in you, when it rings true, you know it in your body. Walking through the woods, I vibrate with the scenery, like a bottle in the wind.
Of course, the world isn’t a monolith. You might feel at odds with your time or place – on a different wavelength, or cut off from the root note in the harmony.
Conversely, something might resonate with you and be utterly false. Nature is always hiding, camouflaging. Cultish deception might disguise as spiritual insight.
But the truth comes out eventually, and we adapt to it. Or not.
Adaptive Resonance Theory
In Lex Fridman’s conversation with Joscha Bach, they discuss a question I’ve often pondered: How is it that we – with our limited cognitive resources – are able to rapidly learn enormous amounts of information and maintain a continuous, unified experience?
Adaptive Resonance Theory would say it’s because the brain meets sensory input with expectations, which allows it to remain stable. When inputs match an existing category, your mind rings with recognition; if they don’t fit in an existing category, a new one is created.
A new fold in a cliff carved by the ocean of experience.
Resonance happens across modalities. For instance, you can tell what someone is saying by reading their lips. As you’re reading this, maybe a little voice is narrating it, and maybe you can visualize someone mouthing along.
When something really rings, when you see the truth in an idea, it’s resonating with a deep understanding – learned or innate – of the world’s rhythms.
Music
At the concert, I sat front row by the drummer, listening to the rattle of the snare drum as it resonated with the keyboard. With a start, I realized that my mind is doing the exact same thing: vibrations hit my ear drums, then the tones, melodies, and ideas of the song resonate in me. They move me to explore new relationships between my emotions.
Every art form is like this: it takes elements and categories that you recognize and lures you into new places. Throughout the whole journey you feel the ring of truth – or else the spell is broken.
Fred Armisen has a joke that at some point in listening to jazz, you can feel your mind saying “This is jazz.” You’re no longer paying attention to the actual music; instead, you’ve chosen to fit it within a category that already exists.
Some people are more sensitive than others to new ways of resonating with the world. There is no right or wrong way of being. Sometimes you need to take it on the chin. “That’s life.”
But sometimes life demands other things of you. Roger Gracie – often considered the greatest jiu jitsu competitor of all-time – says that once he stopped competing, he would cry when he watched movies with his kid. Different jobs require different temperaments, and the world needs hard people and soft people. Sometimes it needs you to be both.
Waves
Surfing is a sport where you need to be both hard and soft. You fight and flow in a dance with the ever-shifting energies of the ocean.
Different surfers choose different waves. Big wave surfers can wait years for a wave worth catching. It depends on your level of skill, your sense of aesthetic, what moves you.
Wind in the sails
I don’t think anyone has a static essence. However, I do believe that people have innate interests, which move them along, clashing and harmonizing with practical realities.
You can’t choose them. When I was learning how to code, I found the process of technical problem solving to be purely tiring. In contrast, if I have an idea that I want to write about, I can spend an entire week alone working at it – tired but spiritually energized. As if I’m where I’m “meant to be,” singing along with life’s music.
Biblical doctrine would have it that we exist for the glory of God, to worship Him, to sing His praises. What we do is true and right if it makes us sing.
If we ring in resonance with the spirit of the world.
✤
Wow, thank you for this! Falling in love with words is one of my favorite things to do!
Love the idea of a magical words series. Looking forward to the next one already!