Awe-Deprived or Awestruck? The Choice Is Ours to Make
What we may be missing, and how to get it back
I always thought of awe as something rare — something that happens to us a few times a year — if we’re lucky.
But then, as I was reading the other day, I ran across the word “awe-deprived,” and it really got me thinking.
Apparently, awe can be a deficit, like a hole in the ground where the soil is supposed to be. Like a wintertime Vitamin D deficiency, only worse. I can take a pill to make up for missing Vitamin D. But there’s no way to reclaim lost opportunities for awe — to make up for passing through weeks, months, or years without having been fully alive.
Being deprived is rarely good. The term awe-deprived suggests destitution — a serious lack of something essential. I’m more of a “Top it off, please” kind of person. It dispirits me to be told I’ve been deprived of something.
Awe — according to the new science of the same name — is one of the basic human emotions. Humans feel awe in the presence of tremendous beauty or power. Awe is beneficial because it enhances our appreciation of the world and our sense of connection to others. It also provides an expanded sense of time. So why are modern humans awe-deprived, and what can we do to get more awe into our lives?
What’s missing
Two pours are missing from the cup. One of them is missing because we collectively spend so little time in nature — less than an hour a day on average, and nature is a primary source of awe. Reflecting on the fact that early humans spent nearly all of their waking time out in nature, it’s easy to see that moments of awe were part of their daily experience.
Even the time we spend outdoors is too often in nature of a diminished sort. The sky is crisscrossed with wires. The stars shine with muted brightness. The hoots of the owl are drowned by the drone of traffic.
The second pour can be missing to the extent that our lives are so busy and our brains are on overdrive.
Even when I’m out in nature, I may be blind to the wonders around me if my senses are shut down and I’m ruminating about the past. The opportunity to experience awe may be close at hand, but if I’m looking at my cell phone or worrying about the future, I miss out. Sometimes it takes something dramatic like a clap of thunder to be woken up.
Maybe then I finally experience awe. For a moment, I feel present, connected, and grateful. Maybe then I go home and tell others about this rare moment and wonder if, in a few months, I’ll feel the same again. The waiting-to-feel-that-way-again is the deprivation.
Being awe-deprived has a side effect of feeling time-deprived, of never having enough time, of rushing through my days rather than savoring them. This is because awe experiences are known to provide a sense that time has expanded. Without those moments and that sense, life is a blind rush.
Another side effect of awe-deprivation is loneliness. Missing out on awe, I miss out on moments when I feel connected to others and to the natural world.
To what extent do I have enough time? To what extent am I connected? The answers are subjective. They’re matters of perception. If I believe I have enough time, then I don’t feel rushed. If I believe I have meaningful connections with others, then I don’t feel lonely. (I can feel a connection — after all — with a person I rarely see. Feeling connected doesn’t require physical proximity.) Moments of awe can help shift our perceptions of time and connectedness in a healthy way.
What we can do to have more of it
Back to the two missing pours. To have more awe, I need to spend more time in nature, and I need to be present enough to appreciate it. Since, as K. Barrett writes, awe can be found in even the smallest instances — a potted plant or a fish in an aquarium — and since architecture, music, art, and great acts by others can also be sources of awe, getting that first pour is easier to solve. It’s the second pour, the being present part, that’s more difficult.
Experiencing awe is less about where you go and more about appreciating where you are.
As “The Science of Awe” explains, for us to experience awe, two things have to happen. Not only do we need to be in the presence of something awe-inspiring, but we need to adjust our thinking to “assimilate” the experience. Receiving that second pour is about slowing down and opening our senses to appreciate the wonder that surrounds us.
Fortunately for us, this assimilation doesn’t have to happen all at once. Being in the immediate presence of something awe-inspiring isn’t necessary. We can also experience awe through the power of memory — by reflecting on past moments in which we felt amazement and wonder.
A Ruth Wilson article in Spirituality + Health explains how reflecting on past awe experiences can lead to “a life transformed”:
. . . Awe experiences can enrich our lives — not only at the moment we experience them but as memories we carry with us over time. Such memories, as described by environmental psychologist Louise Chawla, serve as “radioactive jewels buried within us, emitting energy across the years of our life.”
Reflecting on awe experiences in the form of writing, artwork, or conversation can be transformative. In this way, awe not only provides a powerful reset but also resonates within us for months and years. It can set us on an upward-spiraling path to more awe, openness, connection, and growth.
The experience of nature-based awe has been more of a birthright than a privilege for 99 percent of human history. Awe is supposed to be something we access on a daily basis, not something rare, and not just the privilege of a leisured few. Maybe it’s time to be more assertive in reclaiming that birthright. Maybe it’s time to stop rationalizing, “I don’t have time for that today.”
No way around it, being labeled as awe-deprived is a grim diagnosis — but one we don’t have to accept. For our own health and the health of the planet, we need to reclaim it. Integrating awe into our daily lives is less about access and more about intention — and that intention doesn’t have to wait.
To read more about awe, check out:
