“Those who dwell, as scientists or laymen, among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.” Rachel Carson (1)
Mountain Whispering - artwork by Lisa Petheram
We stood waiting on a narrow tree canopy walkway at a Rainforest Centre in Borneo, the humidity and dusk settling heavily around us. Our necks craned upward, eyes scanning the treetops. More and more tour groups arrived; voices of different accents layering into a low murmur. Our night tour had just begun, and our guide whispered that a flying squirrel might emerge from one of the many towering trees ahead.
I was really hoping to see the squirrel, but the crowd was growing and becoming both distracting and suffocating. The walkway had become a bottleneck of about forty people from all over the world, standing awkwardly together in the sticky heat. Exhausted children complained to their parents. One shoved a pair of plastic, blue binoculars into his mother’s hands, while another, face drooping with boredom, suddenly coughed and spluttered in my direction. I held my breath and edged away. Nearby, a couple—French, perhaps—exchanged terse whispers, their faces stony.
This was not how I wanted to experience the rainforest. My mind became busy, plotting an escape, a way for my partner and me to slip away and explore on our own.
Then, suddenly—the guide pointed urgently.
I snapped my gaze upward. Time stilled.
A flying squirrel had leapt from the tree, its skin stretched wide like wings, gliding effortlessly through the canopy. It moved with breathtaking grace, soaring in an unbroken arc across the darkening sky.
All forty of us followed its path, our heads panning together in synchrony. A collective “Ohhhhhhh” rippled through the group in different accents.
And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the squirrel disappeared into the night.
I turned to my partner, eyes wide, and felt his hand squeeze mine. The French couple, once stiff and distant, now smiled at each other—then at us. The boy who had abandoned his binoculars had them back, scanning the sky with urgency, one hand gripping his mother’s arm. The sick child, suddenly animated, bounced on her toes, pointing wildly and chattering in Japanese, and tugging at her brother’s sleeve.
In an instant, everything had changed.
Video of Flying squirrel in Borneo (2025). Turn the sound up high to hear the reactions.
Awe is difficult to describe because it is a feeling unlike any other. As illustrated in the story above, it is a universal experience felt by people across cultures. It can slow time, shift things into perspective and bring us together. Awe researcher Jennifer Steller defines awe as “...an emotion you feel toward a thing or person that is so extraordinary, it almost defies comprehension…it often changes or challenges how you view the world”(2). Essentially awe is an emotion we feel when confronted with vast mysteries that exceed our grasp of the world.
Consider the sense of relative smallness you feel when confronted with something vast—a star-strewn night sky, the magic of a young virtuoso at the piano, or a single dewdrop resting on a tiny leaf in the morning light. It might come about from hearing a grandparent’s stories of challenge, the towering presence of a newly built skyscraper, or the simple kindness of a stranger toward another. Perhaps it’s in the way afternoon light dances across your kitchen wall or in the phenomenal moment of witnessing your partner give birth. Some of these experiences may seem extraordinary, others entirely ordinary.
To experience awe you don’t need to travel to Borneo to witness a flying squirrel, nor do you have to spend money. In fact, research suggests that people with less wealth and those from lower socio-economic backgrounds experience awe more frequently each day (3). These moments of awe can be elicited from everyday experiences; something as simple as noticing the unfurling of a baby’s tiny toes at your cousin’s house, or watching a bird enjoying a dip in a puddle of water in your garden.
Awe researcher Dachner Keltner explains that to find awe, we must look for the “eight wonders of life”. The most common sources are witnessing moral beauty (such as acts of courage and kindness), connecting with nature, experiencing music, and visual art. And perhaps less common, yet very potent are: “collective effervescence” (the energy of participating in shared experiences such as dance, sport, rituals, ceremonies); engaging in spiritual practices; having profound epiphanies; and witnessing life’s defining moments like birth and death (4).
Seeking awe is a deeply human instinct, and one of the first emotions children express. Yet, the scientific study of awe is still relatively new. Growing research suggests that our brains and bodies are naturally wired to seek awe (5). Some studies indicate that emotions can be distinguished, in part, by the specific needs they help us address. From this perspective, awe is a unique emotion that helps us take in, and make sense of novel, complex information (6). In other words, we experience awe as a way to engage with and understand different dimensions of our world.
Even though awe can be difficult to describe, we often recognise it through our body– through goosebumps, spine tingling, welling of tears behind our eyes, a dropped jaw, widened eyes, or raised eyebrows. Our voices may lower, and we might notice a deep sense of stillness, spaciousness, calm or expansion. This shift in perception can enhance our patience, ground us firmly in the present, and help reframe our context.
During moments of awe, the boundaries between ourselves and the world around us seem to dissolve, creating a sense of deep connection; as though we are part of everything. In this way, awe slows the body and alters our perception of time, offering both mental and physical benefits. It helps regulate the nervous system by reducing the "fight or flight" response, boosting oxytocin (the feel-good hormone), and improving vagal tone (which supports heart health and stress resilience) (7). Scientists have also found awe can lower inflammation—a key factor in conditions like autoimmune diseases, heart disease, depression, and PTSD. While awe can’t eliminate life’s chaos, it helps build resilience and navigate stress over time (8,9).
Our thinking also improves through awe. Recent research suggests that those who frequently experience awe tend to have a more accurate understanding of scientific concepts—an effect not observed with other positive emotions like pride, joy, or amusement. Awe also reduces the activity of our "default mode network" (DMN)—a brain region sometimes referred to as our "monkey mind," which engages when we focus on ourselves and process information from an egocentric perspective. By quieting the DMN, awe helps lessen self-criticism, anxiety, and depression (10).
Instead of focusing on our own“specialness”, awe draws our attention outward, fostering a sense of belonging to something greater and strengthening our connections with others and the world around us. In this way, awe is more than just an emotion—it can be seen as an altered state of consciousness, similar to a “flow state.” Research shows that experiencing awe not only reduces self-focus, competition, comparison and judgment but also fosters kindness, generosity, humility and a stronger desire to support and connect with others (11). For those who tend to be “over-givers,” this might raise some concerns. Many, including myself, have had a habit of giving, motivated by a story of “I’m not enough”. This can have a cost of exhaustion or burnout. For me, the desire to care or give that comes from experiencing awe feels different—more expansive, nourishing, and fulfilling. This aligns with findings that during awe, the ego quietens down, allowing us to engage with the world in a more open and connected way.
Seeking awe doesn’t mean ignoring or bypassing difficult emotions and challenges. One of the unique aspects of awe is that it can coexist with struggle—we can experience awe from a place of pain or difficulty. In this way, we can “stay with the trouble” rather than turning away from it. Encountering mystery during difficult times can open us to new perspectives, interpretations, and meanings. Awe sparks a subtle yet powerful cognitive shift—one that happens in an instant, causing us to pause, wonder, and reconsider what we believe to be true. It allows us to step beyond our ego-driven narratives, the ones that define hardships in personal terms, and instead, view them with greater openness and spaciousness.
About a year and a half ago, I was far from home, on a long-overdue holiday. It had been a very difficult year of challenges, marked by health struggles, and the loss of a few people close to me. Most recently, I had walked alongside a dear friend through her nine-month journey with a rare brain tumor and witnessed her spend many long days in palliative care, watched over by her pained and grieving partner. In her short life, she was an inspiring leader, change-maker and loyal friend: strong, fierce, smart, creative, funny, generous and caring with an enormous overflowing heart. So many of us loved her deeply.
I left on holiday two weeks after she died, reeling from her passing and the reverberations of her devastated community. I arrived on holiday with my nervous system fried, and my heart tender with grief and confusion. I hadn’t travelled in years and had decided the best medicine for me in this instance was to embark on a pilgrimage of death and rebirth in a remote mountain range.
It seemed life had other plans. Not long after I arrived, and before the pilgrimage, I received shattering news from my dad that my mother’s long-managed cancer of 10 years had suddenly and rapidly advanced after a virus, and she had been given only months to live. Shock hit me and I found myself disoriented and in a surreal state. I agonized for quite some time over what to do. Finally, I decided to cut my trip short and return to my parents’ home to spend as much time with her as I could.
I was sitting restlessly on a crowded, rattling train on my way to the airport when my phone rang. It was my brother and he sounded unusually unmoored. He told me my mother had died in the lounge room—suddenly, unexpectedly, much sooner than anyone had predicted. I was too late.
After I got off the train, the next few hours were some of the hardest of my life as the reality of this news hit me. I drifted through the city in a daze, caught between numbness and an unbearable weight of grief and guilt—which settled as a deep ache in my chest and stomach.
Somehow I made it to the airport and the long haul flight. Seated, my mind played a relentless loop of “what ifs”—if only I had changed my ticket earlier. An anxious and attentive flight attendant handed me a disposable cup of lollies and tissues, in an attempt to stem my tears. I barely registered the cup and tissues as they sat in my hands.
Then, as we soared through the night sky, I looked out the window and saw the full moon—luminous and magnificent. It took my breath away. I later learned it was a blue supermoon, supposedly a powerful one.
And then, something unexpected happened. I felt my mother’s love radiating from that moon, as if she were somehow within it. It was an indescribable sensation, vast and beyond comprehension. In my mind’s eye, I sensed her—smiling, dancing, freer than she had ever been in life, sending me warmth and love. My breath slowed and deepened. My eyes widened. I was mesmerised under the moon’s spell, and lost in the magic.
Soon, the grief returned, heavy and raw. But throughout the rest of the journey, I moved between the weight of loss and the quiet awe of that moon and my mum—the mystery of death, the strange, unexpected comfort of the expansion of awe. I found a balm in the reminder of something that I couldn’t yet grasp; an opening to something bigger. I see now that awe was working its way into my grief, helping me make sense of the new shape of my life without my mum, and other recently lost loved ones. It didn’t invalidate or remove my grief, or make it less real. Instead, it placed it within a larger mystery and helped dissolve my edges, reminding me that even in the deepest pain, there was something meaningful as well as vast that held both grief and possibility at once. And through this process my self-blame and guilt started to quieten.
On the plane, I found myself continually returning to something our teacher said during my Psychotherapy training, about how the process of grief has the power to open us to experience life more fully if we allow it. Amidst deep feeling and pain there can also be moments of witnessing exquisite beauty. This had been my experience so far in the death of recently passed loved ones, and increasingly now so in the death of my mum.
I didn’t immediately recognise the awe I was experiencing on the plane as a distinct emotion, but I felt its power. I decided that my way of moving through grief would be to stay open to both the process of grief, and these moments—to truly notice. I sought these moments out, and they became my talisman. I found them in the call of a magpie at my feet, the shower’s musical rhythm against the tiles, the quiet kindness of strangers. In these moments, I discovered meaning within suffering. Both grief and awe reshaped my view on life. Even though I missed my loved ones dearly, I realised I could still be close, and even deepen my relationship and love with them in new ways —real or imagined. It was only much later, after reading a book about awe, that I realised I had been unknowingly practicing the cultivation of awe, and it had played a key role in keeping me afloat during the months that followed.
Both grief and awe together can open the door to deeper meaning, wisdom, and a fuller understanding of the human experience. James Garside explains “Our broken hearts open us up and help us see through the veil that separates us from the rest of existence…Through grief, we start to see beyond what we believed to be the concrete reality of our individual lives and come face to face with the sheer power and magnitude of this immense universe we’re part of”(12).
The case for inviting more awe into our lives is clear. But what keeps us from accessing this fundamental human need? Culturally, so many of us have forgotten how to have awe. As Sophie Strand says in discussion with Amit Paul “...we gate our awe, our wonder, we gate our relationships and miracles…we are told and trained out of awe.”(13) So many of us are not in conversation with our bodies and surrounding environment, and the pace of our lives today does not leave much room for presence or awe. As poet John O’Donohue puts it, “We are so busy managing our lives we forget this great mystery we are involved in.” The relentless busyness and chronic stress of so many pull us away from presence, making it harder to remain open and curious to moments of awe. Tara Brach, in her conversation with Dacher Keltner on awe, adds another layer to this—many of us live with narratives of “I’m not enough” and we end up living in a “trance of unworthiness”. This self-doubt is often shrouded in fear, narrowing our “aperture” to the experience of awe and closing us off from its transformative power. (14)
So considering all this, how can we invite more awe into our lives? Firstly, being aware of awe, its benefits, and our need for it is a helpful start. From here we can try to intentionally seek both presence and beauty in the everyday. According to Dacher Keltner, just 2-3 moments of awe each day can make a meaningful difference. We can pause, take a breath, choose to put our devices away and truly notice—the texture of a tree’s bark on the walk to work, the wisdom in a child’s voice in the park, the expansiveness of the night sky through the bedroom window–or other quiet magic woven into the mundane. We can contemplate on questions such as those suggested by trail-blazer Rachel Carson over 60 years ago “What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?” (15)
It is important for us to find pathways to awe that are meaningful to us individually and culturally. For some this might be through connection to nature, for others music, stories, sport or spirituality. In addition to bringing more attention to moments in our everyday lives, we might also make intentional efforts by revisiting favourite or new music, spending 10 minutes at an art gallery on your lunch break, going to a free theatre show with your family, finding a spot to watch the sunset, asking your elders questions about their life, or taking a walk in a local nature reserve.
Awe can also be nurtured within therapy; clients can be guided to discover awe both in their daily lives and within the therapy room. Awe may emerge in different ways: for example, when a therapist supports a client appropriately, at the right time and with consent to stay present with uncomfortable feelings in their body. From here the client might come to an expanded moment where they don’t feel as threatened by that pain, and may encounter a wiser, knowing part of themselves, and discover valuable and more spacious perspectives. This process can also lead clients toward curiosity and intrigue, and in some cases even appreciation of hidden gifts in their difficult experience. Awe can also arise from the impact of a powerful metaphor or reframe that resonates in the body, or from an “aha” moment when a client shines daylight on old patterns or stories. Clients can also for example be taken through processes in nature, with nature items, art, breath or movement to bypass the thinking mind to help meet awe. Therapy can also support clients more generally in building a sense of safety and healthy self-esteem, fostering the openness and curiosity needed to pause, welcome awe, and embrace the mystery of life. This allows them to see the world in new and meaningful ways.
Therapists can also commonly experience awe when witnessing their client’s processes. This might arise for example from witnessing a client’s vulnerability and strength, as well as their courage and commitment to facing and being present with difficult feelings. As a therapist and community engager, I commonly find myself in awe of clients, and the human condition more broadly. I am so often amazed by the magic carried by humans, as well as what they can endure, and how even through struggle they so often find their way back to moments of wisdom, connection, meaning, love, humour, wonder –and awe.
We live in challenging times where the ground often feels unstable—a global existential crisis of sorts, with many people feeling fear and searching for meaning and guidance. At the same time, we crave mystery, long to engage, and are wired to experience awe. This awe can help us navigate difficulties, inspire fresh possibilities, ignite hope, and expand our circles of care for both others and nature. As Tara Brach suggests, part of our evolution lies in actively facilitating our own evolution, and awe is one of the conscious ways we can do this. (16)
When we are awestruck by life’s vast mysteries, we can shift our perspective, finding hope and possibility, even during times of despair. Through this we can feel inspired to be part of integrated communities and do things that are good for our collective whole like setting up gardens, sharing public art, caring for nature spaces, and holding dance, music, food or games events (17). As Dachner Keltner says, as humans we don’t just enjoy activities like dancing, singing, gathering for meditation, gardening, crafts, concerts, sports and rallies - we need them. When we share positive experiences in groups, we naturally fall into rhythm and synchronicity with one another, creating moments that spark awe (18). In a beautiful cycle, awe motivates us toward collective experiences, and those experiences, in turn, generate more awe.
We have so much on offer to us to enter into awe–music, art, nature, moral beauty, spirituality, collective effervescence, epiphanies, life and death. Awe is much more available and powerful than many of us realise. My wish is that “we can find awe not just in the stars but in the stardust that constitutes everything - even the most mundane objects—on Earth”(19).
An offer - 7 DAYS OF AWE PROGRAM
Mountains whispering
Mysteries fall to my feet
A dance up my spine
If you’d like to welcome more awe into your life, you are invited to sign up for a free 7 day guided awe practice with Lisa (Freedom to Breathe).
Each day, you’ll receive an email with invitations and poetic inspiration to practice cultivating and integrating awe into your daily life. This program will launch from the 19th May 2025.
You can sign up anytime before then from here:
This piece* was written by Lisa Petheram a Holistic Psychotherapist, Nature-Experience Facilitator, Community Engager, Researcher, Curator and participatory artist–based on Ngunnawal and Ngambri country (Canberra). If you are interested in online or in-person sessions or other offerings with Lisa please contact her on lisa.freedomtobreathe@gmail.com (or visit Freedom to Breathe or @lilipeth_m).
Lisa and other Holistic Psychotherapists are also available online for more accessible therapy rates once a month via the Holistic Psychotherapy Community Clinic at CC Community Clinic
* This writing was inspired by the module on awe in Elizabeth Warson and Cathy Malchiodi’s Nature-Based Expressive Arts Therapy Live Webinar series (Thank you!). It has also been further inspired by so many of the researchers, writers, thinkers and podcasters who have revealed more about awe to me! While I am here, special thanks also to superstars Matthew Georgeson and Michelle McCosker for cheerleading and support.
Notes
Carson, R. (1956). The Sense of Wonder. New York: Harper & Row
Hrustic, Alisa (2004) Awe Can Do Wonders for Your Well-Being—If You Know Where to Look for It, SELF.
Piff, Paul K. and Jake P. Moskowitz.(2017) “Wealth, Poverty, and Happiness: Social Class Is Differentially Associated With Positive Emotions.” Emotion 18: 902–905.
Keltner, D. (2023). Awe: the new science of everyday wonder and how it can transform your life; Chicago
Eagle, J., & Amster, M. (2023). The power of awe: Overcome burnout & anxiety, ease chronic pain, find clarity & purpose–in less than 1 minute per day. Hachette, UK.
Shiota, M.N. · (2021) Awe expands people's perception of time, alters decision making, and enhances well-being. Psychol. Sci. 23: 1130–1136.
Chirico A., Cipresso P., Yaden D. B., Biassoni F., Riva G., Gaggioli A. (2017). Effectiveness of immersive videos in inducing awe: An experimental study. Scientific Reports, 7(1), 1–11. 10.1038/s41598-017-01242-0
Keltner, D.. (2023). Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life. Penguin Press.
Thompson, J. (2022). Enhancing resilience: An interpretative phenomenological analysis of The Awe Project. Journal of Community Safety and Well-Being, 7(3), 93–110. https://doi.org/10.35502/jcswb.265
van Elk M., Arciniegas Gomez M. A., van der Zwaag W., van Schie H. T., Sauter D. (2019). The neural correlates of the awe experience: Reduced default mode network activity during feelings of awe. Human Brain Mapping, 40(12), 3561–3574. 10.1002/hbm.24616
Luo, L., Zou, R., Yang, D., & Yuan, J. (2022). Awe experience triggered by fighting against COVID-19 promotes prosociality through increased feeling of connectedness and empathy. The Journal of Positive Psychology, 18(6), 866–882. https://doi.org/10.1080/17439760.2022.2131607; Keltner, D. (2023). Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life. Penguin Press.
Garside, J. (2023) How Our Grief Opens Us Up to Life - The Good Men Project,How Our Grief Opens Us Up to Life - The Good Men Project https://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/how-our-grief-opens-us-up-to-life-kpkn/
Strand, S and Paul, A.(2021) Sophie Strand: Myth story, the dance of the masculine and feminine and rediscovering awe. World of Wisdom [Podcast]
Brach, T. and Keltner, D. (2023) Basic Goodness and Awe: A conversation between Tara Brach Dacher Keltner https://www.tarabrach.com/goodness-awe-tara-brach-dacher-keltner
Carson, R. (1962). Silent Spring. Houghton Mifflin.
Brach, T. and Keltner, D. (2023) Basic Goodness and Awe: A conversation between Tara Brach Dacher Keltner https://www.tarabrach.com/goodness-awe-tara-brach-dacher-keltner
Brach, T. and Keltner, D. (2023) Basic Goodness and Awe: A conversation between Tara Brach Dacher Keltner https://www.tarabrach.com/goodness-awe-tara-brach-dacher-keltner
Keltner, D. (2023). Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life. Penguin Press.
Harrel, E.l (2023) The Power of everyday awe. Harvard Business Review. https://hbr.org/2023/01/the-power-of-everyday-awe
