That sounds amazing Michael about the first time seeing a distant galaxy through a telescope. Similarly with the first time seeing a tall mountain range or the ocean with water that seems to go on forever.
A similar experience for me was driving over the Rockies from Vancouver to Calgary. I remember my wife and I simply staring out the car window and not being able to say anything. The scale and depth of those mountains stopped my mind from being able to form any words at the time. Awesomeness.
"They sea is so great, and my boat is so small". Breton fisherman's prayer
Your essay is awesome (had to do that) Michael! 👏 Such a tender cataloguing of the sense of awe and its inevitable waning with experience. Recognizing our smallness in the scheme of things is the beginning of wisdom. I find that my "amazement" (a variant of awe and wonder?) at the power and complexity of life (human and otherwise) grows sharper with age. I think my writing is largely an attempt to make some sense of it all.
Thanks for a beautiful reading experience with my Sunday morning coffee. 🙏🏻
Beautiful, Michael. Thank you. You've got me thinking. I tend to believe that awe and wonder and interestingness are both evolutionary products within us and built into the landscape as well. Maybe together they form a sort of music, a visual rhythm and melody to which we're attuned? This is just a riff, but I feel that awe is the climactic part of the melody, wonder is the child's wisdom that accrues from attending to those moments of awe, and interestingness is simply a rational response to the interesting world.
Thank you for this thoughtful piece. I experience wonder often when I notice the beauty around me. Awe includes, for me, an element of humility or humbleness. It means feeling small in contrast to that which I am experiencing. I want to cultivate more awe in addition to more wonder into my days.
That sounds amazing Michael about the first time seeing a distant galaxy through a telescope. Similarly with the first time seeing a tall mountain range or the ocean with water that seems to go on forever.
A similar experience for me was driving over the Rockies from Vancouver to Calgary. I remember my wife and I simply staring out the car window and not being able to say anything. The scale and depth of those mountains stopped my mind from being able to form any words at the time. Awesomeness.
"They sea is so great, and my boat is so small". Breton fisherman's prayer
Your essay is awesome (had to do that) Michael! 👏 Such a tender cataloguing of the sense of awe and its inevitable waning with experience. Recognizing our smallness in the scheme of things is the beginning of wisdom. I find that my "amazement" (a variant of awe and wonder?) at the power and complexity of life (human and otherwise) grows sharper with age. I think my writing is largely an attempt to make some sense of it all.
Thanks for a beautiful reading experience with my Sunday morning coffee. 🙏🏻
Beautiful, Michael. Thank you. You've got me thinking. I tend to believe that awe and wonder and interestingness are both evolutionary products within us and built into the landscape as well. Maybe together they form a sort of music, a visual rhythm and melody to which we're attuned? This is just a riff, but I feel that awe is the climactic part of the melody, wonder is the child's wisdom that accrues from attending to those moments of awe, and interestingness is simply a rational response to the interesting world.
Wonder is a lovely second to awe.
Thank you for this thoughtful piece. I experience wonder often when I notice the beauty around me. Awe includes, for me, an element of humility or humbleness. It means feeling small in contrast to that which I am experiencing. I want to cultivate more awe in addition to more wonder into my days.