Life is not always beautiful. Sometimes it is awful not “awe-full.” In 2011, Houston suffered through a terrible drought. It didn’t matter how much we watered, once the grass became stressed, the grass would not recover. For six months it was dry, crunchy and brown. It was hard to stay positive when in my heart I felt all we were dealing with heat, heat, and more heat, in a place where it usually rained almost every afternoon in the summer.
The seeds sprouted very well and we experienced a continuous flow and variety of wildflowers. Our meadow began in spring with blues, purples, and whites and transitioned to yellows, reds, and oranges in the summer and fall. The rosemary went wild. The lavender and sage, not so much.
The best gift of the meadow, though, was the number of neighbors and strangers who took time to visit the floral spectacular. I received many comments of appreciation for giving them something natural and beautiful to walk past and to enjoy the new flowers every week. It was a pleasure to look out my office window, watch a passerby, pause, reflect, discover and enjoy some of nature’s beauty. A true gift was a stranger who knocked on the door and thanked me for the flowers. Her mother was receiving treatment at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center nearby, and while her mom was resting, she would take pause and enjoy the wildflowers.
After Hurricane Harvey in 2017, the Houston house is now gone, along with the meadow. But we have a new mini-meadow now, here in Fort Collins. It is an Audubon Habitat Hero project. Responding to a similar situation, we had a spot of lawn from a dead ash tree in which grass just did not want to grow. It was a charming, landscape architect-approved, curved shape that seemed to attract cheatgrass and bindweed that my husband hated to mow. So, we followed the Habitat Hero rules, reworked the drip system, and planted native plants and perennials.
The transformation was remarkable including the enjoyment of neighbors taking pause to enjoy the flowers, the bees, the hummingbirds and birds. We take pause, see what is new in the space, and experience a brief moment of awe. Now when a robin unearths a worm, I realize she or he needs about 3000 of those squishy worms and caterpillars to feed their brood of baby birds. It was an inexpensive project with an unexpected yet delightful return on investment. Awe.
One of my favorite research groups to follow is the Greater Good at Berkeley. I love them because they initially started out studying compassion and empathy, and have expanded their studies to encompass elements that help us create a more meaningful life. One of those elemental feelings is awe. A study in the journal Psychological Science showed feelings of awe seem to slow down time and boost feelings of life satisfaction. The Greater Good shares eight reasons the experience of awe helps us in our daily life including feeling like we have more time, feelng more connected to others, and improving life satisfaction.
Although our Houston meadow was not expansive stretching for miles and miles of jaw-dropping beauty, there was something in the flowers that raised eyebrows, opened the eyes a little wider in curiosity, elicited a deep slow exhale, a smile, and a reason to stop, pause, wonder, investigate, or perhaps just slow down.
Here in Colorado, we have many opportunities to experience natural awe. From mountain views, quiet moments in the fall in a shaking aspen grove, or taking pause at a rambling brook. But life does get in the way, including traffic, work, illness, and commitments. Coloradoans are not immune to frenzy. It is easy to get hurried and totally forget about awe. And then perhaps we realize that is what is missing.
So, just for today, whether you are in Colorado or elsewhere, consider the small moments of awe that may improve your life satisfaction and well-being. Looking deep into your grandbaby’s eyes, a native bee foraging on a sunflower, a robin gathering worms, the craziness of experiencing how night crawlers intertwine themselves on the golf course in the early morning hours, or a pando of aspens quaking in the cool, September fall breeze, their golden color flickering in the sunlight.
Sometimes I know I forget about the power of gazing at something greater than me and the importance of awe that brings me closer to that “something.” I find that moment through the keyhole at Devil’s Backbone, at Diamond Rock picnic ground on the Poudre River, and simply, watching a bumble bee. I pray I don’t take the mountains for granted, or every breath that I am given that in itself is somewhat of a miracle.
Creating a full, meaningful, happy life includes experiencing daily awe. Just for today, experience the importance of awe. Perhap ask yourself:
- What or when in my life have I experienced awe?
- How will I create an intent to take time to reflect back on that awe?
- How will I create new opportunities to remember the importance of awe and discover it in my daily life?
- How will I take time 5 minutes today to experience and remember the importance of awe?
Enjoy!