John R. Gillis in The Blue Humanities says, “It was when nations turned away from the sea as a place of work that writers and painters turned their full attention to the sea itself.” Ironically, the catalyst in how we perceive the ocean transpired the very moment society deemed the ocean monotonous. The article examines how the sea had been viewed primarily through a utilitarian lens: “The focus was almost entirely on the ships and the skills of the men who manned them” In this distancing, artists, writers, and thinkers found space to reinterpret the ocean. When the sea was no longer “useful” in the traditional sense, it became meaningful in new ways. Gillis later includes another line that made a strong impression on me: “The awesome power of the sea, as witnessed from the safety of land, was a powerful and mental stimulant.” Confronting something grand and dangerous, but at a safe remove, incites a canvas for imagination. It triggers thoughts about the limits of human control and the vastness of the unknown. This mirrors romantic tradition where nature plays a big role in the narrative.

By the time I reached the end of Gillis’ essay, I began to reflect on my own connection to nature. The phrase “touch grass” comes to mind, this phrase is commonly used to remind someone that a natural world exists and clarity can be found by simply going outside to touch some grass. Nature has always been therapeutic, I tried to think of the last time I actually felt one with nature. Park visits, beach trips and even hikes have subtle reminders of urbanization. The article reminded me how much of a privilege it is to truly immerse yourself in nature and allow your thoughts to run freely.