Erica Browne Grivas
Our emotions can be powerful teachers. Brene Brown taught us the value of recognizing shame collectively and as individuals, and many researchers are championing the power of gratitude to help us be happier. Now a new book by psychologist Dacher Keltner, “Awe: The Transformative Power of Wonder” asks us to cultivate awe.
Before writing the book, Keltner, a professor at University of California, Berkeley, studied under Paul Ekman – known for his study of facial expressions across cultures – and consulted on the Pixar movie “Inside Out.”
Awe can be tricky to put into words because it has a transcendent quality that takes us into ineffable territory. As you try to describe awe, it seems to slip farther away. It transports us from our internal dialogue to a new and wonderful place. Yet, like love, when it comes over you, it’s unmistakable, and often transformational.
While defining it may be slippery – and vary from culture to culture, person to person – Keltner says the body language of awe is universal, eliciting involuntary tears, goosebumps, “whoas” and “oohs.”
In peer-reviewed studies, Keltner has discovered that awe causes measurable shifts in our bodies, promoting relaxation and healing.
The changes include increased Vagal tone, or strengthening of the Vagas nerve, the system controlling the toggle switch for our “fight/flight/freeze” and “rest/digest” nerve systems.
Other activities help turn off our fear response, like laughing and bonding with friends, petting a companion animal, getting into a flow state, meditating, slow breathing and focusing on positive emotions. By deactivating the “default mode network,” aka the critical voice in our heads, Keltner says awe may be one of the fastest, easily accessible paths to happiness – and one that gets stronger the more you use it.
What creates awe? Keltner lists eight categories of awe-inspiring phenomena: “moral beauty,” noticing the goodness of others in real time or even learning about it; collective movement, like dancing, nature, visual design, spirituality, big ideas, and observing the beginning and end of life.
Often sparked by novelty, awe “orients your attention toward others, and prompts you to explore and engage with the world,” Keltner writes in mindful.org (https://www.mindful.org/the-science-of-wonder). It increases our sense of time and widens our perspective.
Some critics have noted that awe can cause fear, too, as in dictator’s displays of military strength.
In fact the very origin of awe may be rooted in fear, to help us know when to run from predators. “Awe is associated with a goose-tingling sensation in your arms and at the back of your neck — perhaps the bodily register of Kundalini in yoga—that arises in many social mammals, including humans, when responding to peril together” Keltner writes.
Keltner focuses on awe’s positive side, which we can employ to feel better now.
His studies showed that the more subjects looked for awe in daily life, the more they found – and the better they felt. They reported less stress, were more likely to pick up pens dropped by strangers and described themselves in collective rather than individual language. When asked to draw or take a photo of themselves, awestruck subjects facing a T-rex skeleton, for example, made themselves smaller or off to the side, compared to control subjects.
The days welcoming our two sons into the world are the awe moments I’ll never forget. I I consciously find everyday awe in the beauty of plants, which shifts daily in my yard or neighborhood, playing with our dog, in art and design, at concerts, lectures, and more. For me, such things are balm and fuel for my spirit.
Jane Goodall, about to turn 90, spoke at the Moore Theater recently. Talking about her work and her hope about our ability to save animals, the planet, and ourselves, awe was in plentiful supply that night. I wasn’t the only one in the audience in tears.
My husband knows if I disappear while we’re walking downtown, I’m probably taking a picture of a cool manhole cover, a fun store display, or a vivacious plant combination. In a place so blessed with beauty like Seattle, awe often catches you by surprise. Driving south on I-5 crossing the bridge one spring morning seeing the Space Needle floating in a bowl of mist made me gasp. Or the serendipity when “the mountain” materializes from the clouds. Wherever you are, you can’t go wrong with sunsets - while you can predict a sunset, the show itself is new every night.
Recently, I had a moment whose effect lingered for several days. A notification from a whale watching group on What’s App said whales were nearby heading south. I texted a similarly nature-obsessed friend and we met with our dogs at Golden Gardens – who were quite confused to be asked to stand still at the beach – along with several people tricked out with tripods. When the Bigg’s orcas arrived they were mid-Sound, and the water was choppy, but I saw fins!
I can’t be sure if it was the same fin twice or two separate fins, but it doesn’t matter to my heart or my Vagus nerve. The pure wonder of seeing such magic in an unplanned way, not on a whale watching boat, and from my hometown – was amazing, and makes me feel bonded to this place even more deeply.
What brings you awe, and how can you cultivate it?