Awe: what it means and how to respond

Vastness plus a need to stretch

Keltner and Haidt proposed that two appraisals sit at the center of awe: perceiving something as vast, and a need for accommodation, meaning the experience does not fit the mental structures you already have (Keltner and Haidt, 2003). Their paper is a theoretical one, built from a literature review, but the two ingredients match what people describe. The Grand Canyon is vast. So is a mathematician's proof you can barely follow, or the sheer number of stars on a dark night away from city lights.

Awe can also be tinged with fear. A thunderstorm rolling across a prairie or the roar of a waterfall up close can be awe-inspiring and a little frightening at once.

What awe can feel like

People describe goosebumps, a held breath, wide eyes, a dropped jaw, and a strange quiet. Time can seem to slow. Some people tear up without feeling sad. Others feel almost nothing physical and notice awe only afterward, as a sense that something shifted.

What awe tends to do

Across five studies with 2,078 participants, Piff and colleagues found that awe, including standing in a grove of towering trees, increased generosity, ethical choices, and helping, partly through a sense of a smaller self (Piff and colleagues, 2015). The studies mixed correlational and experimental designs. The small self they describe is not low self-esteem. It is your worries and your to-do list shrinking to their actual size next to something enormous.

That is why many people seek awe on purpose after a stretch of tunnel vision: a walk to a lookout, an evening at a concert, an hour in a museum of things much older than them.

Awe, wonder, and admiration

Wonder is awe's curious side: it leans in with questions, where awe often stops you in place. Admiration responds to a person's skill or virtue and makes you want to improve. Awe can include admiration, as when you watch a surgeon or a gymnast, but it can also come from things with no person behind them at all. Joy is warmer and more personal; awe can be humbling and even a bit unsettling.

Example: the night sky on a camping trip

Ruth has spent weeks fixated on a conflict with her sister. On a camping trip, she steps out of the tent at 2 a.m. and sees the Milky Way for the first time in years. She stands there long enough for her feet to get cold. The next morning she texts her sister: “Saw the whole Milky Way last night and thought of the time we slept on the roof. Can we talk this week?” The conflict is not solved, but it has shrunk back to a size she can handle.

Three ways to make room for awe

1. Put yourself near something vast at least occasionally: a big view, a live performance, an old building, a night sky, a piece of work by someone extraordinary.
2. When it arrives, stay quiet for a moment. Resist the urge to photograph it immediately or explain it.
3. Afterward, ask what looks smaller now. Use that perspective for one stuck problem or one relationship.

Words you could use

• “I don't have words for that. Can we just stand here a minute?”
• “Seeing that made my week's problems feel a lot smaller.”
• “I keep thinking about how old those trees are.”

A reflection prompt

When did I last feel small in a good way, and what would it take to put myself near that feeling again?

The EQTiger dimension it relates to

Awe relates to Emotional Self-Awareness: noticing how a feeling changes your sense of scale, and using that shift rather than rushing past it. Read what the self-awareness score describes.