Just over a week ago, as the Spanish government struggled with corruption allegations, the Russian-Ukrainian war continued with no end in sight, and the US entered day thirty-eight of a government shutdown, I turned sixty. You might imagine that this potent cocktail of events had me reaching for an antacid, wallowing in denial, or vowing to disengage from the unsettling miasma of the world. But to my surprise, the effect of entering this new decade – even with the chaotic state of the world – has been quite the opposite.
As part of my birthday celebration, we visited the nearby city of Zaragoza for a long weekend. When I told one of my Catalan friends where we were going, his response was, “Why??” And indeed, when we first ventured out into Spain’s fourth largest city, I feared that my friend was correct and that perhaps I should have chosen somewhere more resplendent with eye-catching attractions.
Zaragoza does have some interesting things to see but I would not rank it among Spain’s most charming cities. And yet, as our day of exploration went on, I found myself noticing and being delighted by things that might have passed me by if I was rushing from one big tourist attraction to the next. A clothing shop that only carried historic and traditional Aragones outfits seemed to defy economic viability. A costume shop that was closed for post-Halloween transition had a handprinted sign in the window with a number to call in case of emergency. The colorful tile pattern on the Cathedral rooftop seemed to catch fire as the sun came out from the clouds.
As I slowed down and took in these magnificent details of everyday life, the awe that I experienced soon fired up my curiosity. Who buys traditional Aragones clothes and why? What constitutes a costume emergency? Was the tile pattern on a Catholic cathedral inspired by Islamic design?
Seeking out awe and wonder in daily life is an active kind of engagement with the world that defies the semi-passive clicks and likes that social media would have us call engagement. It is an engagement that requires something of us – time, attention, a quieting of the mind – but there is much that we get in return.
The awe I experienced at Zaragoza’s Escuela Museo Origami reminded me that things get more interesting with every fold and wrinkle.
The healing power of awe and wonder
There is quite a bit of research on the benefits of awe. People who pause to feel the wonder of the things, moments, and views that surround them tend to experience less stress, lower levels of depression, and greater overall satisfaction with life. Perhaps more surprisingly, they are also more likely to help other people and to make decisions that are more ethical. Apparently, cultivating awe is not just good for us, it’s good for our communities.
The big awe-producing experiences that rivet one’s attention have a special kind of magic – like my experience watching August’s Perseid meteor shower from the darkness of the Swiss countryside. But the studies on awe show that everyday experiences of awe and wonder – the kind you find on the streets of Zaragoza, on your neighborhood walk, or in your own backyard – also pack a powerful psychological punch.
The regular practice of “awe walks” where the focus is on slowing down, being in the moment, expanding your attention, and taking the time to notice and to feel is a simple, free, and powerful way to make a positive mark on yourself and your community.
How might these patterns inspire my artwork?
Awe and creativity
Awe experiences don’t just make us feel good, they fuel our creative fire. Awe sparks curiosity, a precursor to exploration and creative discovery. It encourages the kind of big picture thinking that helps us make connections among disparate concepts – a key part of creative insight. It brings us out of ourselves and effectively shuts down the nagging voices of criticism and concerns that are all too ready to steal our mental bandwidth. And the imagery, ideas, and insights we collect during awe experiences help fill the mental well from whose depths future creative processes will draw.
One trick I use to help me slow down and see with a curious eye is to take pictures. Sometimes I use these pictures for art inspiration, but mostly they get lost in the sea of unexamined photos that I periodically download in order to free up space for more. That’s okay though, for they have already served their purpose in helping me to focus on the wonder of the here and now.
What is going on with this facade full of history?
A mindset for my 60s and beyond
Choosing to engage with the miraculous, awe-inspiring, everyday details of life is a good counterweight to one’s own problems and to all the big ugly things going on in the world that weigh us down. It is a choice not to put our heads in the sand, but to bring some of our attention to the sand itself and open our minds and hearts to the possibility of awe and wonder.
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead —his eyes are closed.”