Midway
through August, and feeling disgruntled about not being
able to get away this year, New Scientist came to the rescue with an
article about the psychological, emotional and creative value of experiencing
awe.
Apparently,
feeling a sense of awe breaks down our habitual patterns of thinking, reducing
the expectations and assumptions which otherwise colour our view of the world, and
thus enables us to see better what’s actually going on.
“Feeling
awestruck can dissolve our very sense of self, bringing a host of benefits from
lowering stress and boosting creativity to making us nicer people,” says Jo
Marchant in Awesome Awe (issue No
3136, July 29th, 2017).
Awe
combines amazement, a hint of fear, and a sense of transcendence: that humbling
knowledge of things beyond us.
Experiencing
awe quietens regions of the brain normally occupied with self-interest and
self-consciousness, increasing a sense of connection to others, and leading to
more charitable thoughts and altruistic actions.
Astronauts
are subject to awe so often when they look down on Earth from space that
they’ve given it a specific name: the overview effect.
“Researchers
have also reported increases in curiosity and creativity. In one study, after
viewing images of Earth, volunteers came up with more original examples in
tests, found greater interest in abstract painting and persisted longer on
difficult puzzles, compared with controls,” Marchant says.
All
of which reminds me of a conversation that creative writers often have with
each other: what on earth should we do when inspiration dies?
Eating
chocolate or cake are popular remedies. Taking hot baths or showers help a lot
of us, too, along with walking the dog, meditation etc. etc.
The
New Scientist article suggests that we’d be better off taking a daily dose of
awe instead. (Controlled
doses of psychedelic drugs seem to work as well, but I’ll leave it up to you to
check out what the article has to say about that.) To
benefit from awe, all we have to do is find out what triggers it in us, and do
that as often as possible.
Maybe
it’s taking time to absorb a sublime city skyline, or to lose ourselves in some
great monument: a ruined temple of the Ancient World, a medieval cathedral or
the Sky Tree in Tokyo. Staring
into the branches of an ancient oak tree does it for me, or encountering a wild
animal unexpectedly, or sitting by the untamed sea or under a starry sky.
One
thing I miss most about not going on holiday is watching the churning wake of
our ferry as we pull away from land, and the crying of gulls, which always
leaves me with a liberating sense of surrender to the journey and the wider
world.
This
loss of self, with its accompanying connection to others, may sound like mystical
mumbo-jumbo or pseudo-religion, but if awe is hard-wired by evolution into our
brains – if it’s a natural, creative, mind-altering buzz – why not harness its
power year-round?
Alternatively,
we could max out on credit cards and go find some sunshine anyway.
@HouseRowena
5 comments:
Ooops. SNAFU with the layout & picture there. Hope it makes sense anyway. Happy Tuesday!
Lovely post, Rowena. I always find dawn awe-inspiring - partly because I so rarely get up in time to see it! I think the last time was flying home overnight from Nova Scotia, when I had a window seat and saw the dawn racing towards us. Btw, I hadn't even noticed the absence of pictures in your post until I went back to see what was wrong with them! What does SNAFU mean? (No - better not tell me. I can guess the last two words!)
Good advice, Rowena. The only thing I really took to in Philosophy 101 was the instruction to allow ourselves to reguarly be 'struck by wonder.'
Science is a great source of awe and wonder.
Being banjaxed by wonder can happen in your backyard. I know I'm sounding like some irritating and elderly Pollyanna, but I see the water-lily opening, the bumble-bees little bums waggling from the nasturtiums, the ichneumon wasps investigating the broccoli. I turn the compost and disturb whole cities of woodlice, worms and spiders, which brings in the birds... the interconnectedness of all the variety makes me feel dizzy.
Dear Ann - dawn is definitely on my list too! When my son was an infant we saw it together often. Amazing. And yes, I think you've guessed the last two letters! First three: System Normal, all...!
And Susan, I so agree with the wonder of nature in our back yard. New Scientist drew a distinction, however, between the primal sensation of awe, and wonder. Wonder, it said, "is more intellectual - a cognitive state in which you are trying to understand the mysterious." Not sure I'd draw such a clear line between the two. Really worthwhile tracking the original article down. Lots more in it.
Lovely!
Post a Comment