Awe Therapy

why we need the ebb & flow of wonder right now

Friends,

I was chatting with a close friend this morning about what anxiety feels like, and how I know when I’m anxious. I told her that it shows up in my body—shallow breathing for extended periods of time causes light-headedness; I experience chest pain or I feel shaky and weak; I get headaches; or sometimes I can’t focus on anything and need to step away from whatever I’m doing.

Lately, I’m easing toward those warning signs, and I am struggling with how to stop the anxiety before it starts. I’m editing my new book before I head to Ireland next week, but in this space of honoring the reality of climate catastrophe and war and election fears, I’m overwhelmed and my body knows it.

What’s your body speaking to you lately?

This morning I was also in my garden, playing with the dogs who, about once an hour, come to my office and beg me to go outside to play fetch. I might grumble, but I thank the Universe for their persistence in getting me out of my head and into the sunlight, to consider what it means to play (literally right now my dog Blaze grabbed her tennis ball and is under my desk, waiting for me to take a break with her).

So as I was outside, I walked by my still-blooming celosia and autumn fire (sedum), and they were covered in bees. They swarmed past my head and I gasped (I’m allergic, so the gasping is for many reasons), in awe of their persistence in getting what they need, in gathering that sweet nectar to survive.

I had to smile, a nod once again to the Universe, who keeps me grounded to the little things. When I came back inside to top off my coffee and get back to work, I thought about this idea of awe therapy.

Note here: I’m not a therapist, just someone who needs therapy.

Here’s the definition of awe:

awe: a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Photo by Denise Johnson on Unsplash

So here’s the thing. Awe is about reverence, respect, wonder, and yes, even a little bit of fear. As much as I love the bees, I probably shouldn’t get too close. So, I love them from a distance.

As much as I love this world, I have to pause the fear of what will happen if we don’t take care of it, and I have to step back and take some deep breaths as I consider what it means to be a person who loves all and loves well, and where I’m missing it.

Nothing will get easier from here, I’ll go ahead and say that our record of history will show us that. Wars will get more complex, global catastrophe will continue, our elected officials will let us down, and we will keep resisting how we can.

But even if things aren’t getting easier, we can still show up more grounded. We can show up in the moments of overwhelm knowing who we are and what we are about, showing up with such fierce and immense love for ourselves, each other and the Universe that the hard stuff is still hard, but we sustain it.

Awe therapy gives us the space to show up in that grounded love.

This is the key, though: the awe cannot last forever, it must be cycled in and out of our daily experience.

So it might go like this:

1. watch the BBC news for 10-15 minutes, in awe of the state of things in the world. Feel the grief. Let it wash over you

2. Eat a snack that nourishes you.

3. Do your job, work your work, make money for yourself and/or your family. Name the gratitude of the thing.

4. Get outside or near a window and soak up Mother Earth. Be in awe of her tenderness and her power. Drink a glass of water slowly and thoughtfully.

5. Ask what you can do to help someone else, somewhere else. Pray into it, live into it, remember your kin. Breathe.

6. Cycle back to work or whatever else you need to do with your day, but cycle in again when you’re ready.

7. Read this piece about pausing before you get on social media by my friend

   Pooja Lakshmin MD
   who will pretty much tell you what I’m telling you, but in the fabulously brilliant healthcare professional way that I can’t.

   Pause Before You Scroll

8. Take some deep breaths and honor your humanness.

This may not look like your day, and that’s okay. My point is, let the ebb and flow of awe happen. Embrace it. You cannot stay in the news forever. You cannot stay in the garden forever. As humans, we cannot hold all of it all the time.

So, the ebb and flow of awe is our therapy.

I think we need that right now.

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

One particular form of awe therapy for me right now is Coldplay’s new album, especially the song “We Pray,” written from a global perspective of prayer and care and justice. I listen to it and I cry. I listen to it and I pray. I listen to it and I am in awe of what music and art can do for us. Take a listen if you’d like:

Tender awe, friends.

I am hoping to write to you all from Ireland once or twice while I’m there (I’m sure there will be poetry abounding), but until then, there are

2 Events happening THIS WEEK that I need you to know about!

1. Saturday I’m speaking with the Spirituality & Practice community on the four realms of resistance from my book, and I hope you can join us! Register Here.

2. And TOMORROW I’m holding a workshop, a Living Resistance Embodiment Session on the Integral Realm, which is our Autumn realm, bringing together the lessons we are learning and asking what those lessons have to teach us. I love hosting these workshops! Come with a journal and an open heart to share with others. Can’t wait to see you there! Reserve your spot here.