My bday of awe

I turned 45 a few weeks ago and celebrated with two girlfriends in Napa.

The trip itself was far from perfect. Drawers fell off their tracks. The water stopped working. A yoga instructor never showed up. On and on. The issues were significant enough that we ultimately received a full refund.

Yet that's not where my memory dwells.

In addition to the laughter and vistas, what stays with me is a quiet morning before sunrise, wandering through the gardens while everyone else slept. Birds sang overhead. A fountain dribbled softly in the background. Flowers spilled from every corner, and sculptural cacti stood like pieces of living art. I had sunk into the beauty so much that I began to cry.

Surprised by the tears, I checked in: Was something difficult surfacing? Was the peace making room for a feeling I'd overlooked?

No.

At the time, I couldn't quite place the source of my tears.

Now I can.

It was awe.

Research shows that awe can quiet our focus on ourselves, increase our sense of meaning, and deepen our feelings of connection to others and the world around us. That sounds pretty handy for the times we're in right now.

Researcher Dacher Keltner describes awe as something we can activate by changing scale. We can zoom out and take in something vast, like a landscape or the night sky. Or we can zoom in and become captivated by the intricate details of something small, like the veins of a leaf or the petals of a flower.

That morning, I found myself doing both. I zoomed in, literally, using my camera to capture tiny blossoms just beginning to bloom. Then I looked up and out toward the vineyards stretching into the distance.

Most of us spend our days focused on what needs fixing, solving, improving, or managing. Our attention narrows...around problems.

Awe interrupts that pattern.

It widens our field of vision and reconnects us to something larger than ourselves.

At a time when so many of us are moving fast and carrying a lot, perhaps awe isn't a luxury or something we leave to chance.

Perhaps it's a practice we must cultivate.

This week, I invite you to play around with it. Consider spending one minute looking at something vast, like a sunset or the clouds overhead. And/or spend another minute looking closely at something small, like a flower, a leaf, or even the specks of light in your partner's eyes.

Notice what shifts.

And if you're up for it, tell me where you found awe.

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