Cultivating Awe during COVID
At this point in the pandemic, people are inevitably feeling fatigue and stress in multiple ways. Some are facing moves back into the office and higher levels of surveillance when they’ve been enjoying the safety and autonomy of working from home. Others are still at home with no break in sight; no one to provide relief from care-taking duties or running the household while still trying to work. And these are some of the best case scenarios: grief, illness, loss, panic and despair continue to be major parts of the collective experience. We are all needing to continue to find ways to take care of ourselves and each other as the uncertainty marches on.
One of the ways I’ve been grounding myself and taking care of my nervous system has been in the practice of cultivating awe. Last summer I was introduced to Jonah Paquette’s research on the emotional state of awe and its impact on our stress response in the body. In his book Awestruck, Paquette defines awe as “containing components of vastness, either physical (like the ocean or sky)… or perceptual (like the concept of physics ).” He explains that it also contains a component of transcending our understanding of the world which forces us to change our assumptions and accommodate new information, perhaps leading us to feel connected to something greater than ourselves.
We can connect with this emotional state in multiple ways including spending time in nature, listening to music, watching inspiring people take action, spiritual practice or worshiping with your community of faith, visiting an art museum, and more. Experiencing and noticing the feeling of awe can decrease the chronic inflammation that results from ongoing stress or trauma, including from PTSD. Cultivating experiences of awe can improve sleep, health and immune functioning and can also increase feelings of happiness, all of which we could use more of these days.
My own practice with awe evolves with the seasons. In summer, especially around the solstice, my favorite way to tap into awe is to watch the fireflies in the field behind my house. At dusk they emerge by the thousands, floating and blinking over the grass as far as the eye can see. The glowing phosphorescent light spreading to the horizon in each direction is improbably beautiful in a way that feels like magic; it’s as if fairy dust has been sprinkled from the sky.
I know that as we move further into fall, I will practice awe with the changing autumn light. The golden sunsets of summer deepen to amber, and syrupy rays of light fade across the field, interrupted by gashes of shadow, until the last beam completely disappears. The setting sun consumes sky and land, and I feel so small as an observer of the dramatic cosmic changing of the guard. I trust that as winter arrives and we move into December, the stars will burn their brightest in the inky skies; a glittering expanse stretching over the silent, frozen ground. These awe-filled moments are also grounding for me, knowing that they’ll appear right on time with the cycling of the year.
While nature presents many opportunities to practice awe, there are other possibilities. Just watching the news and seeing the strength, courage and integrity of medical professionals and other first responders in the face of COVID’s continuing onslaught is awe-inspiring. When I find myself in the city, sometimes I’m struck by the density of people inhabiting the same place on earth and how each individual there has an equally complex history, set of memories and relationships, and variety of perspectives; each one has a heart that beats and lungs that breathe; each one of us connected in wanting to survive, love, and thrive (I know…I have zero chill.) But truly- think of the magnitude of this complexity and connection we share! Whichever opening you choose in practicing awe, the process is the same.
Practice
Notice how ‘awe’ feels in your body. Where do you experience it? What are the thoughts and sensations?
You might place one or both hands over your heart as you notice what happens inside.
If it feels ok, close your eyes and really savor the experience for at least fifteen seconds.
Tara Brach, the Buddhist psychologist, teaches that savoring an experience for fifteen seconds is the length of time it takes to help turn a “state into a trait”, meaning we can wire our nervous system to respond and integrate these experiences more quickly and reliably the more we practice. Just this simple fifteen second practice of noticing awe can provide relief and a reduction in inflammation. As Mary Oliver instructs in her poem ‘Sometimes’. “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” Simply by turning inward and telling ourselves about it, we are taking care of our internal systems for a moment.
The practice of cultivating awe is not meant in any way to bypass the very real grief, pain, anxiety and deep exhaustion that people are feeling these days, nor is it a substitute for therapy or any other treatment that may be necessary. Having access to practices that provide moments of self-care and help support our stress response is also important and can even feel empowering.
To learn more about the science of awe and its benefits as well as more ways to incorporate it into your life, check out Jonah Paquette’s book Awestruck.