You want a better life? Find awe, Dacher Keltner says. The UC Berkeley psychology professor has studied the emotion for years and now has a book on it.
“Awe is the feeling we experience when we encounter vast mysteries: extremely large trees, people whose generosity blows our mind, incredible music, extraordinary experiences,” he says in this podcast. Sometimes we’re awed by other people’s actions, anything from a Martin Luther King Jr. speech to an inspirational grandmother.
In a competitive, social-media-filled world, young people can focus too much on themselves as they raise their profile through things like Instagram posts, Keltner said. “It’s costing them, and it’s costing our world. More depression, more anxiety, more self-harm, eating issues. And awe frees us of that. It makes the self small.”
Keltner says we can find awe in “collective effervescence,” sharing something powerful together, such as performing in a spiritual ceremony or singing in a choir. One silver lining of COVID was that people strolled through their neighborhoods more, often smiling at strangers, comrades in our collective struggle.
In an episode of Keltner’s own podcast, co-produced by Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center, an expert explained how certain types of music can make us feel awe, like Beethoven’s 5th Symphony or this song.
Assuming you don’t have a symphony orchestra at your disposal or the Grand Canyon at your doorstep, here are ways of finding awe. (I probably have a looser definition than Keltner does, so if you notice any full-of-crappedness from here on, blame me, not him.)
Oh, the humanity
Coachella or a stadium of baseball fans singing “Sweet Caroline” can certainly awe you, but a smaller venue might also do the trick. Two of my favorite experiences were when the audience joined in a chorus of “Lucille” at a dueling-piano bar in New Orleans, and when a Mexican immigrant passionately sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” on a small stage at the State Fair decades ago.
The right people help you capture awe, whether you prefer Burning Man or a campfire.
Vastness matters
Ginormous things like the Great Wall and the Great Barrier Reef can awe us, but if you’re in a place without a lot of Greatness and Mother Nature isn’t being a good provider, things might look up if you look up. On a clear night, go far away from the city lights and look to the heavens. If all those stars don’t awe you, I don’t know what to tell you.
The power of surprise
When I went to Beijing 40 years ago, I was awed not just by the Great Wall and the Forbidden City, but by something else.
Bicycles.
China was far less modern than the west, with few private cars. But bicycles were everywhere, by the thousands. Sometimes travel awes you because it gives you a different lens to see the world.
If you let it.
We lessen our chances for awe if we look down on things that are different (“Fish for breakfast?” “No Wi-Fi!”) rather than appreciating the experience. It’s like going on a hike and saying, “Boy, that giant sequoia really needs pruning!”
If you’re open to surprise, you’ll find awe much closer to home. Channel the spirit of Anthony Bourdain and go on a restaurant adventure. Have a different cuisine. Sample a dish you’ve been too afraid to try. You might not find awe, but you won’t find boredom, either.
Open your heart
Reality shows like “American Idol” and “The Voice” don’t endure because of the music. Not really. They tell us the contestants’ backstories and the sometimes-horrific challenges they’ve overcome, and we find someone to root for. Someone we connect with. Someone who inspires us.
You might even find awe in a hug, especially if it’s a loved one you haven’t seen in a long time or someone you’ve grown close to. Savor the moment.
Good vibes
Paris and Kyoto awe me, for way different reasons. Paris can dazzle you with everything from art to architecture to the city’s layout. Kyoto is more subtle, with temples and shrines and rock gardens. Paris is the Champs-Élysées; Kyoto is Pontocho Alley.
Here’s what they have in common: a great vibe. Just around the next corner might be something that enthralls. Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Generic Big City anymore!
Live theater is another opportunity for awe: the powerful “One Day More” from “Les Misérables,” the brilliant “Helpless”/“Satisfied” from “Hamilton,” the suspenseful finale from “The Phantom of the Opera.”
If you saw a great production but weren’t awed, maybe your heart was in the right place, but your butt wasn’t. Some of us are awed more by being in the center of the action, close enough to see the actors’ facial expressions. Others love the balcony, to take in the majesty of the crowd. With any kind of entertainment, make sure your seats suit your vibe.
Awe is a great prism for looking at life’s challenges, too, from struggling downtowns to seasonal affective disorder to loneliness.
Some big-city mayors grumble because lots of people keep working at home rather than commuting an hour to the office. Here’s a thought: Lure them with awe. Inspire them to go downtown because they want to, not just to get a paycheck.
I’m lucky. At home, I can look out my window and see dozens of evergreen trees, or walk 10 seconds from my front door and see San Francisco Bay. My office was in San Francisco, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, like lots of workers in lots of cities, I didn’t see that beauty because our workplace neighborhood was a mundane crap-a-thon, often with human crap.
It was like going from the awe-filled to the awful.
I’m guessing the first rule of collective effervescence is getting people to actually show up. If cities do that with artwork and parks and pedestrian promenades — not to mention an occasional show of appreciation like transit passes or free parking — it will work better than the ham-fisted approach they’re pushing.
As long as we’re in a guessing mood: Could being aware of awe help you cope with, say, seasonal affective disorder? The cold and rain probably limit your time in awe-producing activities like hiking, going to concerts, maybe even socializing.
Others run into the same problems year round because of health and mobility issues. You get into a downward spiral: You don’t feel well, so you don’t do much, which makes it harder to feel better. And if you’re older, you might also be more jaded; awe is one of many things that doesn’t come as easily.
Channel the spirit of Dorothy Gale instead of Debbie Downer. Read poetry, ask friends what songs and books inspire them, look over the lists of the top 250 movies and TV shows from IMDb and you’ll be up to your eyeballs in awe. Hint: Try “Planet Earth.”
The best tennis lesson I ever had was a day it rained and we couldn’t play. Our high school coach led us in a guided meditation, helping my soul if not my backhand. Meditation and yoga are great for collective effervescence, but they also can help your body and mind when you’re home alone.
Maybe you’ll have an epiphany and realize that sometimes you can find your heart’s desire in your own back yard, or appreciate that you can find awe in the things you create: a quilt, a painting, a DIY project, a journal entry, a baby.
I once wrote about sitting at a happy hour and realizing that I could have said “I love you” to any of four people and meant it. Years later it dawned on me: I’d had the same scenario other times in my life, but was too dumb to notice.
Awe is all around us. Take the time to look.
Murphy Slaw
Something old: Here’s a great thread about a huge hit that snuck up on people. Can you name that tune?
Something new: Another aftermath from Turkey’s earthquake, this one more sweet than bitter.
Something borrowed: No redeeming social value — just extreme cuteness.
Something blue: If you’re old and anxious (hello), this might just add to it.