14 | The power of awe in your creative practice & life (awe pt. 1)
The enormity of realizing how damn small I am was freeing.
Excerpt from my Iceland zine
Three years ago, I first walked on a glacier.
A steady sound of change pervaded this experience.
The whistling wind and gurgling of flowing water across ice were constant as we moved up Breiðamerkurjökull, an outlet glacier that juts off of Vatnajökull.
We came to a small stream of meltwater. One by one, the crew lowered to taste the glacial melt. My lips kissed the ice as I drew water into my mouth. The icy liquid dripped from my face down my jacket as others dipped in for a drink.
We continued onward, the crampons clinking as we neared our destination.
Soon I was on my hands and knees, crawling into the small opening. An ice tunnel, the final stop for this glacier trek, snaked through a section of the ice. Water seeped through my pants and jacket as the blue ice swallowed me.
Near the end of the tunnel, I was stopped. Small pockets of gasses trapped in the ice surrounded me. Bubbles locked in ice for decades or centuries, a foot away from being released as the warmth of summer reduced the ice above.
My back bumped against the wall, and my helmet thudded against the ceiling of cerulean. My laugh filled the tight space.
My mind whirled as I drank in the enormity of the moment.
Life was in motion, and I witnessed change at a pace far more expansive than I could fathom.
I was in awe.
For much of my life, I worry or overthink what’s next and how I can plan, change, or act to create the future I want, the one I believe I need. I become hyperfocused on my perspective and my timeline.
And this is frivolous compared to geological or cosmic time.
Those pockets of ice wait each summer for their moment of release.
While I was sitting in the ice cave, my focus darted from bubble to bubble, mesmerized by the intricacy and serenity of the scene. My thoughts raced from climate change—how we amplify change with consequences we don’t understand—to a feeling of cosmic insignificance.
“Awe is this state where your perspective expands well beyond yourself. When we feel our time is scarce, we behave in very limiting ways. (When) we pull into ourselves, we don’t have confidence that we can complete all we want to. Whereas, by shifting our perspective, by expanding our perspective, it also expands our sense of how much time we have,” UCLA professor Cassie Mogilner Holmes said in a Hidden Brain episode.
We feel and understand the power of awe as humans. In addition, science is catching up.
Research has shown that awe can:
Improve mood
Good for your health
Think more critically
Decrease materialism
Feel more humble
Expand your understanding of time
More generous and cooperative
Feel more connected
And though the methodology of how we induce awe is varied in this research, the evidence suggests that awe is a powerful state that can shift our understanding of ourselves, our lives, and the time we have.
The author Oliver Burkeman encapsulated this in a recent episode of the Making Sense podcast. “Here we are, with this terrifyingly short lifespan of little more than 4,000 weeks on average and the question of how to use this time wisely and well is the central challenge if we want to live lives of accomplishments and meaning. To connect deeply to the wonder that the world has to offer. And to make the most of this most unlikely gift of getting some time on the planet as conscious creatures.”
As creatives, we may find ourselves in singular-focused states that become nearly obsessive. Introducing awe into your day in small and sometimes big ways can provide a critical perspective on our work.
Let’s use our time wisely in our brief, ever-changing, beautiful moments. Let us embrace what awe can teach and let this guide how we spend our time creating.
End note:
This piece is the first in a two-part series focused on awe and creative practice. The second part will take a closer look at how we find awe in our everyday.
“Without an endless amount of time, everything we do matters. Knowing how we spend limited time in this limitless world often seems impossible as time races, but the effort matters. And with this in mind, the question becomes, how do we live our limited lives in this changing world in meaningful ways for each of us? How can we find a way to look at our life as a whole and realize that it is more than the sum of its parts?”
Excerpt from an essay in my Iceland zine.
Links:
Time Management for Mortals — #289 Making Sense with Sam Harris
The Science of Awe (a white paper for the John Templeton Foundation) by Summer Allen, Ph. D.