By Val Walker

Photo by Marius Butiuc

“Wherever there are birds, there is hope.” -- Mehmet Murat Ildan

Rachel Carson, in her book, The Sense of Wonder, encourages us to share our love of wildlife with our children and grandchildren. Through wondrous moments with young, curious, and open minds—unabashed and pure—our loved ones witness and feel our love of life—contagious moments of enchantment. These fleeting bursts of awe, when walking in the forest with a grandchild, or stargazing with our partner, or spotting a brilliant red cardinal landing on our fence, can offer a timeless sense of intimacy and meaning.

We never forget these little pockets of magic throughout our lives that seem to come to us out of the blue and for no apparent reason. These little surprises of wonder can bring a sense of relief from overthinking and worry, such as spotting a bird on an inexplicable mission who comes remarkably close to us. When we are sick, lonely, or grieving, we might be amazed that, despite the dense, painful thoughts dominating our minds, a chickadee lands by our window and chats, staring right at us, as if to call us out of our misery. At least for a few seconds.

And the whole tone of the day changes.

My grandmother, Viv, loved chickadees. When we snapped string beans or folded laundry on her screened porch long ago in Maryland, as I prattled on about my dreams or asked her about God, she would suddenly stop me when she heard chattering chickadees, her favorite birds. “There they go again, talking up a storm, just like you.” She chuckled, shrugged, shook her head in wonderment, and I stopped talking. I listened closely to the chickadees and to the wind blowing through the branches of hickory trees and over the orange zinnias waving in her garden. I loved her love of chickadees and her passion for wonder that filled me with reverence for wildlife. Ever since, no matter how alone, or ill, or sad I’ve felt in my seven decades of life, Viv’s spark of wonder for chickadees has inspired me to follow my passion for the beauty of birds.

Birds unexpectedly flying near us have given humans breathtaking moments that have changed lives for many thousands of years. In all cultures, wild birds have beckoned our sense of wonder in captivating ways, as signs of hope, as muses for music, as angels, spirits of loved ones and ancestors from the afterlife, or as amazing creatures to cherish.

Long before the digital age and popularity and mass consumption of finding our totem birds and spirit animals, I was mysteriously drawn to blue herons. My calling to follow herons is an honest and soulful yearning that began at a dark, hopeless time when I was about to end my life alone by a river back in 1979. Viv had just died suddenly of a heart attack, and I’d been running from a violent partner for months, ending up homeless, destitute, exhausted—and I wanted to leave this world. But amazingly, a majestic blue heron circled above me and landed stunningly near me, staring at me with piercing eyes as I was about to overdose with a bottle of pills. As if the heron offered divine intervention, I stopped-- and ever since, I’ve never again attempted suicide. I’ve followed herons to their watery sanctuaries for decades and I thank my love of these birds for keeping me alive in times when I’ve wanted to give up on humanity and my life.

Heron Lore

Not only have I loved blue herons, but I’ve been inspired by accounts of human encounters with herons. The Egyptians worshipped the Bennu, a type of heron, that flew across the Nile into the rising sun, entering the realms of the afterlife and returning to earth at sunset.

St. Columba of Scotland in AD 560 adored a blue heron, after finding this injured bird with a broken wing after a storm on the rocks on the Isle of Iona. He asked his fellow monks to help care for the heron until they could release this resilient creature back to the sky over the Irish Sea. St. Columba and the monks witnessed the return of the heron every spring flying down to their monastery as if to give thanks.

The Hitchiti Tribe of the Muscogee-speaking people of Georgia teach heron lessons to their children of the patient, determined, and wise heron in their Heron and Hummingbird tale.  

Heron lore includes glorious poetry about the grace and stealth of herons such as Mary Oliver’s “Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond,” Longfellow’s “The Herons of Elmwood,” Elizabeth Bishop’s “Seascape,” and others.

A popular Japanese film by Hayao Miyazaki, The Boy and the Heron, was released in 2023 with astonishing and awe-inspiring animation. This heron guides the boy to different times and other dimensions to reclaim his past and to envision his future.

My favorite literary work about herons is the short story, A White Heron, by Sarah Orne Jewett. We learn the tale of a young girl and her secret (and sacred) relationship with white herons who have built nests high in tall fir trees. She finds her strength and independence through protecting these threatened birds from hunters—a coming-of-age story in praise of herons!

What I find enormously healing and meaningful is to share my love of herons with others through literature, art, film, videos, as well as walks by rivers and streams.

Healing Through Our Love of Birds

But whenever I see a chickadee, I remember my grandmother, Viv. Through every single characteristic of that chatty, busy little bird, through its movements and songs darting through the pine trees and maples, I hold the everlasting essence of Viv, who left this world 46 years ago.

And when I spot a red-tailed hawk, I think of my father who died in 2021. He adored these fearless, determined birds and swore they gave him the will to stay alive after he was diagnosed with vascular dementia. Decades ago, on a walk in Maine when I showed him my heron sanctuaries along the rocky coast, he told me of his love of hawks and how they gave him a sense of peace and reverence for beauty. “My hawks are to me like your herons are to you.”

Noticing-- and being willing to stop and notice-- a favorite bird of a loved one allows us to see our person in a whole new light. It deepens our love for them.

These fleeting moments with birds can restore us after trauma and loss and deepen our bonds with loved ones (still living with us on earth as well as those who’ve moved on). As for the herons I love, and the chickadees and hawks loved by my grandmother and father, I can attest to the faith of the nature writer, Terry Tempest Williams. “I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear. And at the end of my prayers, they teach me how to listen.”

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Gold Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles, quotes, and Q&As have appeared in the New York Times, AARP, Babyboomer.com, Next Avenue, Caregiver Solutions, TIME, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. 

Val’s new book, Healing Through Wonder, will be released with Bloomsbury Publishing in January 2026. You can also learn more about the “Healing Through Wonder Project” through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.

Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

By Val Walker

Photo by Annisa Rosalina

Our experiences of awe and wonder can surprise us in many ways—when a glorious cardinal lands near our window, or when someone on our mind calls us out of the blue. We may have encountered moments that took our breath away and nurtured our senses as well as our soul with something enchanting and indescribable. We paused to take it all in and savored the afterglow of our amazement. But minutes later, we moved on, forging ahead to meet our daily responsibilities and tasks.

Too often, we forget these stunning little moments. These pockets of magic might be underappreciated and left unexplored, left behind, or tucked away. We might not recognize how wonder transforms us through these brief, fleeting experiences. Even 30 seconds of being awestruck by a rainbow popping out of the clouds can shift a hectic, chaotic day into a somewhat more livable day, at least.

Neuroscience research readily explains the many good reasons to stop and behold these wondrous moments. One big benefit is the instant deactivation of our Default Mode Network of our brains when we switch from self-absorbed or self-referencing thinking into a state of being present to the moment and open to our surroundings. This reset of our perspective and our receptivity to the world around us, as well as attunement to other people around us, all work to bring out the best of us. In short, little bits of wonder and awe open our minds—and we are more likely to see our world, our lives, and other people in a whole new light.

As uplifting as it sounds to restore more wonder and awe in our daily lives, for troubling reasons, we spend much of our time on our screens and phones, doomscrolling or racing to keep up on ever-breaking news. I’ve noticed, especially since the 2024 election, that I’ve needed to force myself away from my devices and just take a merciful pause to restore a moment of wonder into my day. I am now highly intentional and proactive about giving myself “awe moments” or “wonder walks” for my peace of mind.

Still, I worry about my scrolling habits and hypervigilant phone checking behaviors that interfere with doing what I want to do with my precious time! I yearn to have more wondrous moments and time to relish these, to have conversations reminiscing about memories of when time stood still, and time to write about these encounters in intricate detail.  So—why do I keep jumping on my phone to get a quick fix on TikTok, or an update on the tanking stock market, another war on the brink of starting, or another lay-off of 20,000 employees? I live in suspense—and completely admit it.

On top of that, I must work more hours to earn more due to medical needs and medicine increases, as well as radically increased utilities and food costs. And with the tariffs, we’re facing shortages and higher costs for most everything. My modest social security income is threatened with proposed cuts.

So, I live in suspense and financial insecurity—like most Americans these days. And we all know the stress this causes. But still, how on God’s green earth can we be fair to ourselves and give ourselves and others a moment of wonder? Or joy?

Just last week, after realizing I’d left my phone in the car, I mercifully forbade myself to run out to the car to rescue my phone (as if it was an emergency). I would not allow myself to touch any screen or look at one for a good 30 minutes. I plopped down on the sofa by my window to watch the blue jays and chickadees hopping near me in the bright green maple trees. The spritely, dazzling April leaves waved in swirling breezes while my sheer white curtains swayed in unison.

I was not going to let anything or anyone take away this wondrous moment. Today was just too beautiful to pass up and leave in the background for screentime.

It struck me that giving myself a pure moment of wonder was my resilience to this cynical world and its demands. Protecting time for wonder was essential to preserving my sanity. Indeed, making time for pockets of enchantment was how I could stay strong and hold on to the best qualities of myself. These moments were more than just little stressbusters—they were fundamental to my resilience.

And then, something I thought made me smile: My resilience is my resistance to negative, destructive forces.

My sense of wonder makes me resilient. And my resilience is my resistance to destructive forces.

Similarly, Rachel Carson, in her book, The Sense of Wonder, heralded the power of wonder to save our planet and the future of our humanity. She calls us to nurture, preserve, and protect our ability to feel these vital emotions. Otherwise, without our sense of wonder, we become desensitized, dehumanized, debilitated beings.

I’ve found that making time for awe, wonder, reverence, and a little magic are essential for my survival, not only for my well-being. I know how strong I feel when I don’t allow the algorithms and screens to suck me in, hook, line, and sinker. I have the power to give myself a moment of wonder and my full, undistracted attention to what really matters.

We can reclaim our sense of wonder by protecting our time for wondrous moments and being intentional about where we give our attention. I agree with Rachel Carson: “The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction.”

Our sense of wonder can save us. I can attest that moments of awe and wonder have kept me hopeful, willing to be amazed, and able to wing it with uncertainty.

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles and Q&As have appeared in AARP, Caregiver Space, Babyboomer.com, Caregiver Solutions, Time, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. 

Val’s new book, Healing Through Wonder, will be released with Bloomsbury Publishing in January 2026. You can also learn more about the “Healing Through Wonder Project” through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.

Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

By Val Walker

Image Credit: Phillip Justin Mamelic

For the Healing Through Wonder Project, I explore stories of people who deeply believe in the power of wonder for living with grief, trauma, and addiction. I’ve personally found inspiration and hope from their recollections of how moments of awe and wonder transformed their lives and sparked their faith in humanity.  

I’ve met contributing storytellers for this project through referrals from the following three organizations in the Boston area:

• The Sun Will Rise Foundation: The Sun Will Rise Foundation provides peer grief support for those who have experienced the death of someone they care about due to causes related to substance use.

• SADOD (Support After a Death by Overdose): SADOD is dedicated to increasing the effectiveness of peer grief support in Massachusetts for people affected by a death from substance use (not only from overdose but also from suicide, homicide, accident, and medical complications due to drug use).

• The Health Story Collaborative: Thanks to a referral from Annie Brewster, MD, who collaborated with Unfixed Media founder, Kimberly Warren, to produce a video series called The Unfixed Mind: Navigating Mental Health Today (2023), I met an enthusiastic participant from this series, Ricky Allen. He was pleased to share his story with the Healing Through Wonder Project.

Having been profoundly transformed by a moment of awe and wonder, Ricky generously provided interviews for this project via our lively Zoom conversations. His story echoes remarkable similarities to the awe and wonder experiences of other storytelling participants. Broadly speaking, based on neuroscience research, common responses to awe are:

• Shifting focus from our headspace (our self-referential, nagging thoughts) to what is outside of ourselves—to the present moment

• Self-transcendence and opening to a new perspective

• Being a part of something vast and much greater than ourselves

• Feeling grounded and calmer in our bodies

• Time slowing down or standing still

• Seeing others in a new light and interest in helping others

Ricky’s experience of a life-changing moment of awe reflects these robust benefits to our well-being and mental health. In his following story, we can learn how even one brief moment of awe and wonder can provide a source of resilience for a lifetime.

Ricky Allen: The Life-changing Kindness of a Stranger

Credit: Ricky Allen

Ricky Allen, 32, is an inspirational speaker and mental health peer mentor who has presented for NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) in Austin, Texas. Ricky was raised by Christian missionaries in an African American household in Missouri City, a suburb of Houston, Texas. Proud to be helpful as the oldest of three children, he watched over his siblings as the “man of the house” while his father worked long hours as a plumber.

“Even though we were a low-income household in those years, we were a loving, resourceful family, and our parents took good care of us. I had lots of neighborhood friends who played in our house with me and my brother and sister.”

When Ricky was in the third grade, after the family had relocated to Lubbock Texas, he faced racism and bullying in his school, but thankfully football became a stabilizing and positive force in his life.

“Fortunately, as a big kid for my age, I was introduced to football. Being on that team and playing as a lineman helped me deal with the racist attitudes at the school. But it was also a good outlet for me to express myself. Sports helped me learn to regulate my emotions and handle stress.”

Later in 2003, the family relocated again to San Angelo when Ricky was twelve. He continued to succeed at football and enjoyed his school friends who came to his home to play video games. These were happy and social years.

“My friends came from all walks of life. We really had a good time playing Halo on game nights…I kept playing football and still loved it.”

Unfortunately, due to an injury to his left shoulder by the age of sixteen, Ricky was forced to stop playing football. Losing the opportunity to play his beloved sport caused him to become isolated, bored, and depressed. His grades plummeted, and he barely kept up with his classes, as he stayed home playing video games and gaining weight. Ricky remembers his first schizophrenia symptoms—hearing voices and hallucinations—appearing when he was alone at home.

“I heard voices—and I was not in control. I first noticed a voice talking to me when I was alone in the backyard at my house. It said, ‘It’s a beautiful day.’ I answered out loud, ‘Yes, it is.’ I will never forget that first time talking with my first voice.”

Soon, feeling paranoid about his symptoms becoming evident to others, he tried his best to hide them. But it was difficult for him to focus on assignments in his classroom or chat with family members during meals.

“I became paranoid and kept worrying that someone was going to find out about my voices and put me in a mental hospital somewhere. I was afraid people in white coats would lock me up, like I had seen in the movies.”

Ricky’s friends and classmates joined him in increasing drug and alcohol use. Although he received his high school diploma, he admits he had lost interest in starting a career and felt ashamed of his lack of focus or ambition. His symptoms progressively caused him to withdraw socially, and he could only handle part-time retail jobs.

“I worked at Dollar General and Target—a lot of jobs. I even worked as my father’s apprentice as a plumber…I was really going through the wringer and getting progressively more depressed and isolated. I started self-mutilation, cutting myself on my arms and feeling a lot of shame.”

At this time, Ricky had not been evaluated or diagnosed, so, sadly, he was not aware he had schizophrenia-- and he had no context for identifying his symptoms which frightened him. But he struggled to put himself, as he describes, into “autopilot.” Music became his favorite remedy for anxiety and depression. He especially enjoyed songs from the 1970s, from Earth, Wind, and Fire.

One winter night in 2012, he heard the shocking news of the suicide of one of his closest friends. Ricky did not eat or sleep for forty-eight hours in his acute grief over his friend’s death. He heard nagging inner voices urging him to drive immediately to his friend’s gravesite in San Angelo. He dashed into his car at midnight and drove 220 miles to his friend’s gravesite, arriving at the cemetery.

“But the gate was locked—the gate would not budge. I could not get through to go see my friend’s grave. I was so upset. I sat in my car for hours and saw hallucinations all around me.”

Deciding to visit his friend’s parents, despite his anguish and exhaustion, he pushed ahead to drive a few miles on the interstate in heavy morning traffic. But soon he blacked out and found himself in the middle of a car crash.

“Four eighteen-wheelers flew past me. Somehow I had skidded off the highway and I could see a jeep, pulled over in the left lane, that had been rear-ended by my car. Smoke was coming out of the hood of my car. I was in shock.”

Ricky was frozen and stunned, sitting in his car. A middle-aged woman with blond hair, wearing a gray sweatshirt and jeans, stepped out of the jeep and walked over to his car with a caring look of concern for him. He felt terrible guilt for hitting her car and could hardly look her in the eyes.

“She asked me, ‘Are you okay?’…She wanted to calm me down, just by standing by me, caring for me, as if she was my mother. She said, ‘The ambulance is on the way.’ I could not talk but I could see she knew I was in shock.”

Ricky was briefly evaluated by the EMS workers from the ambulance that soon arrived, but he signed a waiver not to go to the hospital. He remembers that the woman returned to her jeep and waited and watched the EMS workers before she left, making sure he had been evaluated and was safe. He believes she never told him her name.

Ricky drove back to Austin, despite the damage to his car, and amazingly, he managed to reach his home safely.

Later that day, he realized how profoundly moved he was by the woman’s kindness and gentle care for him. He believed a miracle had happened at this time in his life amid his illness and grief. He reflected on her words ‘Are you okay?’ and realized how vital it was to take responsibility for himself, and that his self-care was part of caring for others. It was time to be honest with his family and ask for help.

“She gave me a second chance. She gave me a gift. She could easily have pressed charges. She didn’t even file a claim. She didn’t judge me or care what kind of background I had. She only wanted to help.”

On the same day of the accident, Ricky told his parents about his ordeal with hearing voices, seeing hallucinations, the suicide of his friend, and the demolition of the car. “I told them everything—I completely opened up. I felt I should come clean to my family after that amazing miracle happened to me with a stranger on the highway.”

Soon Ricky was evaluated at a psychiatric hospital, diagnosed with schizophrenia, depression, anxiety, and was prescribed medications. His parents became active members of a support group for families as well as mental health advocates through NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) at his local Austin chapter.

“My parents and siblings are glad to be connected with NAMI. They wanted support and education to learn more about schizophrenia and how they could support me. I’m so relieved and grateful they became involved.”

Thankful for the support from his family, his peers, his local community, NAMI, and other mental health providers, Ricky moved forward with a genuine sense of commitment to his recovery. But it was his miraculous connection with the woman in the accident that inspired him to take responsibility for his recovery. He believes he was given a second chance by her act of kindness, lifting him out of his shame and isolation caused by stigma about his illness and substance use. This healing encounter with this woman has also motivated him to serve others by putting his second chance into action. His mission is to show others who live with mental illness how to find hope, meaning, and purpose in their recovery.

Between 2016 and 2019, Ricky earned an associate’s degree in creative writing at Austin Community College. During that time, he was awarded a certificate by NAMI for being a presenter for their series “In Our Own Voice: Living with Mental Illness.”

Ricky currently works full-time as a peer mentor for a community services agency in Austin, helping other young adults live with a mental illness.

“I tell everyone that I think it is a miracle that I am still here. The woman in the accident who asked, ‘Are you okay?’ has inspired my work. When I check in with people, I ask, ‘Are you okay?’ every day. I carry on her message of kindness and caring.”

In one video for The Unfixed Mind series, Ricky movingly describes the moment when a parent of someone he had mentored expressed their appreciation for his work and called him a hero. With tears of gratitude and humility, he recognized how he had truly given someone who suffered like him a second chance.

When I last spoke with Ricky this past January, he offered his insight in honor of the kind stranger who gave him a second chance. “People need people in their lives to care enough to ask, ‘Are you okay?’ To be open and honest. Showing we care, human to human, can save a life.”

Resources and Further Reading

For more about Ricky and the Unfixed Mind series, find on YouTube:

• Unfixed Mind: Living with Mental Health Challenges

• Unfixed Mind — unfixed

• Healing Through Wonder Project

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles and Q&As have appeared in AARP, Caregiver Space, Babyboomer.com, Caregiver Solutions, Time, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

You can also learn more about the Healing Through Wonder project through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.

By Val Walker

Photo Credit: Kellymlacy

No matter how busily my mind is chattering away, when I spot a blue heron flying over me, I’m suddenly quiet with wonder. I stop and behold the grace of the bird’s wide wings gliding into the wind and my day begins anew—as a beholder of wonder. My love of herons sparks my sense of awe, openness, and reverence, qualities that I’ve kept private and sacred in watery sanctuaries where herons thrive.

Two years ago, I started a book about my awe-inspiring encounters with blue herons and how these majestic birds had helped me heal from trauma and loss. But recently, gazing through my window at maple trees sparkling in a burst of sunshine after a rain shower, I had an epiphany—a moment of awe in its own right. I realized it was my sense of wonder that had kept me going strong all these years, not just those beautiful herons. It was my willingness to be amazed by the beauty of nature, of music, of real-life heroes, of many wondrous things that gave me the will to survive and move forward.

 And here, precisely, is the thought that struck me: It is our ability to be wowed—not only the thing that wows us—that we can claim as a source of strength.

Neuroscience has shown us that experiences of wonder are essential to our healing and resilience. Only recently did I realize how much my lifelong capacity for wonder had been so vital to my well-being—indeed, to my survival. No one I’d known had ever validated my experiences of awe and wonder as a sign of strength, wisdom, or even maturity. When I finally recognized how essential my ability to be wowed and amazed had been to my recovery as a survivor of trauma and loss, I was eager to encourage fellow survivors to reclaim their sense of wonder.

With this discovery about the power of awe and wonder, I delved further into neuroscience research as well as poetry to explore this mysterious aspect of ourselves that allows us to open to entirely new experiences. As Dacher Keltner, author of Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life, describes it, “Awe is the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your current understanding of the world.”

Exciting bestselling books on awe and wonder have shown how this uplifting topic has given readers a break from the cynicism and pessimism around us, but some stubborn old myths about awe still prevail. Some of these misconceptions can mislead us into high expectations of our moments of awe and wonder that may cause us to miss the smaller, more nuanced surprises.

I would like to share two particular myths alongside two realizations about awe that have opened my eyes and made me more humble—in a good way.

Myth 1

To gain the benefits of awe and wonder, you need to have a big, powerful, profound experience. For example, you once had a powerful moment of awe at age 23 when you saw a spectacular Aurora Borealis in Alaska. But since then, you have never had that same level of awe later (in real life.) You compare your awe experiences and believe “nothing compares” or “it will never happen like that again.”

Reality

Seeking to replicate the same breathtaking awe experience might be causing you to miss out on other moments of awe. Small, brief, and frequent experiences of awe and wonder, over time, offer many benefits to our well-being. We can cultivate opportunities for awe and wonder where we welcome and appreciate the more nuanced moments that still take our breath away.

Neuroscience shows how it is the frequency of awe moments that matter, no matter how small or brief. Studies reveal how smaller daily doses of awe and wonder can provide, over time, the greatest benefits to our well-being. Taking an “awe walk” in the early morning on a regular basis can give us an opportunity to open to awe-inspiring encounters.

Myth 2

You need to be in a calm, clear state of mind to have an experience of awe.

Many of us believe that if we are upset, ruminating, worried, or overthinking, then we will not be able to have a moment of awe and wonder.

Reality

Sudden, unexpected moments often do happen to people who are struggling through grief and trauma. Surprising experiences of awe quickly switch our focus outward and out of the grip of our self-referential thinking. Ethan Kross, a psychologist at the University of Michigan states in a BBC article, “When you are in the presence of something vast and indescribable, you feel smaller, and so does your negative chatter.”

Just imagine -- something astonishing captures your attention while you are ruminating or doomscrolling through social media: Your cat jumps into your room, or a chickadee sings at your window, and you stop whatever you’re fretting about, snapping out of your thoughts. Somehow, a whole day’s worth of worry stops, as if you were “saved by the bell” with a moment of awe. Even in a matter of seconds, you’re suddenly grateful that there is a wide, wondrous world outside of you to behold.

Creating More Awe in Our Lives

Creating the time and space for cultivating awe and wonder can become a spiritual practice, or at least a daily ritual of mindful living. For survivors of trauma and loss, we might turn to awe-inspiring poets, artists, and musicians who shared their moments of awe with the world.

 If there is one survivor of trauma and loss who transformed her life through awe and wonder, I would choose the poet Mary Oliver as my shining example. Her wonder-filled poems have been a lifeline for me and thousands of survivors of trauma and grief. She boldly welcomes awe with a wide, open heart as she marvels at the natural world around her.

Mary Oliver proclaims in her poem, “The Ponds”:

 “Still, what I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled.”

 I believe we can find strength through awe and wonder by being open and “willing to be dazzled” every day.

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles and Q&As have appeared in AARP, Caregiver Space, Babyboomer.com, Caregiver Solutions, Time, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

You can also learn more about the Healing Through Wonder project through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.

Photo Credit: Cynthia Magana

When we’re captivated by something greater than ourselves in a shared moment of wonder, we see each other in a whole new light. And later, when we relive these wondrous moments through storytelling—days, months, years later—we rediscover each other in a new light.

I recently listened to a friend’s awe-inspiring encounter of being in the path of totality for the solar eclipse in April this year. She had traveled from Boston to Ohio to reach her perfect viewing spot and fortunately, the weather was ideal for the full spectacle. Weeks later, she shared those powerful moments that had taken her breath away with me and a friend—and our breath was taken away just listening to her story. We got chills right along with her as she held us in suspenseful detail, allowing us to be in that moment of awe with her. We felt something greater than ourselves had unified all three of us in this profound moment of amazement.

Indeed, millions of Americans felt a collective sense of awe during the eclipse: “Oh, wow —I’ve never seen anything like this!” Their awe generated deep emotions, tears of gratitude, chills of excitement, reverence, a sense of oneness with others, an affirmation of life. For such a brief and fleeting event, the eclipse had an enormous impact.

In the same spirit, I’ve enjoyed watching stories of people viewing the Aurora Borealis in May of this year as Americans gazed at these stunning lights for the first time. And on a completely different awe-inspiring topic, it’s heartening to hear the stories from awestruck fans of Taylor Swift about being in a live audience of 60,000 (even though I’m not a Swiftie). And I’ve been captivated by the (comeback) performances of gymnast Simone Biles after her brave advocacy for the mental health challenges of athletes.  And just last night, I’m still wowed by that amazing half-court shot by Boston Celtics player Payton Pritchard at the buzzer.

The awe-inspiring vibes are contagious through stories that relive the moment--from eclipse viewers, Aurora Borealis enthusiasts, ecstatic Swifties, or astonished sports fans.

Quite simply, in these cynical and pessimistic times, I’m awestruck when I see other people awestruck. Even vicariously, enjoying these moments of awe and wonder gives me a boost of faith in humanity. Certainly, humans are wired for collective experiences of awe and wonder, and we seem to be hungry for these experiences.

Neuroscience Validates Sharing Our Experiences of Awe

Neuroscience has shown us how these powerful moments of awe allow us to see ourselves in a whole new light. Awe is considered to be a self-transcending emotion—a state of mind that stretches our awareness beyond our habitual patterns of thinking. Essentially awe grabs our attention away from our self-referential thoughts and pulls us out of our self-absorption. Psychologist and author Dacher Keltner has called our sense of self within this expanded, vast perspective our “small self,” an awareness of being a small part of a much wider world beyond our own lives. This vast, all-inclusive sense of oneness helps us feel humility and compassion for others around us. (Keltner’s bestseller, Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life is a friendly introduction to the topic.)

In a BBC article, “Awe: the ‘little earthquake’ that could free your mind,”  University of Michigan psychologist Ethan Kross describes awe as “the wonder we feel when we encounter something powerful that we can’t easily explain.” Awe and wonder leave us speechless and stunned for a moment, a pause—an instant change that resets our thought patterns. Kross adds, “When you are in the presence of something vast and indescribable, you feel smaller, and so does your negative chatter.” Kross has conducted studies with PTSD survivors including military veterans and youth from underserved communities. One study where participants joined in a rafting trip in Utah demonstrated how their feelings of awe predicted better outcomes in their well-being months later. In short, when we experience awe, we turn our attention outwards instead of inwards. We are better able to attune to one another in the moment.

It appears this attuning to one another, shifting our attention outward, also happens when we share our stories of awe and wonder.  Social psychologist Michelle Shiota, a researcher at Arizona State University, describes getting out of our “predictive coding” about what is supposed to happen next when we open to an awe experience, even when we hear the story from the experiencer. Awe allows us to break out of our expectations, assumptions, and biases about what we think is supposed to happen as the experience unfolds. “The mind dials back its ‘predictive coding’ to just look around and gather information.” So, awe literally puts reality right in front of us. Our minds practically gasp when we’re overcome with awe—we “get it” on some level even if we cannot explain it.

So, when we are experiencing moments of awe with others in storytelling, we welcome these powerful, inexplicable experiences that snap us out of our habitual mindsets and expectations. When we share our stories of awe, we are allowing our listeners to “dial back” their own “predictive coding” and just be there with our experience as if we are all feeling it for the first time.

The Healing through Wonder Project

I’ve not only been excited about neuroscience research on awe and wonder but I’ve been inspired to gather storytellers to share their life-changing experiences. I’ve created a YouTube channel called Healing Through Wonder where my co-host, Robyn Houston-Bean, founder of The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and I interview guests who tell their stories of healing from transformative encounters with awe and wonder. We invite guests who are facing grief after the loss of a loved one due to substance use, as well as guests who’ve survived trauma and addiction, to share their awe-inspiring experiences. Many of our guests have attributed these transformative moments of awe to being a turning point in their healing—their lives have never been the same since that shift in their awareness.

Robyn Houston-Bean, co-host, Founder of the Sun Will Rise Foundation (top left). Val Walker, co-host (top right). Tavyn Thuringer, Special Projects Assistant at SADOD (Support After a Death from Overdose), bottom left. Mary Peckham, peer grief support facilitator at Matthew’s Candle, bottom right.

With our Healing Through Wonder channel, Robyn and I have created a friendly platform to claim and celebrate our healing encounters with awe, such as breathtaking moments with wildlife, with dreams, music, spiritual revelations, and more. We believe everyone has a “wonder story” and we’ve witnessed how sharing our story inspires listeners to explore and welcome future experiences of wonder. Indeed, healing moments of awe and wonder are contagiously uplifting as well as meaningful. We get goosebumps and feel a sense of oneness and closeness with each other when we share a moment that took our breath away. 

If any readers of the Health Story Collaborative are interested in being a storytelling guest on our Healing Through Wonder channel, please feel free to contact Val Walker through her website.

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles and Q&As have appeared in AARP, Caregiver Space, Babyboomer.com, Caregiver Solutions, Time, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

You can also learn more about the Healing Through Wonder project through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.

Photo: Pexels, Andrew Patrick

Little did I realize, as a survivor of trauma and loss, how much my lifelong capacity for wonder had been so vital to my recovery. I’d never recognized my ability to be amazed and wowed as a true strength, and no one I’d known had ever validated these qualities as a sign of strength, wisdom, or even maturity. If anything, being awestruck or wondrous was something akin to being gullible, naïve, or childlike. Yet profoundly healing encounters with awe and wonder are common experiences for survivors of trauma and loss. Indeed, a powerful moment of awe with a great blue heron saved my life decades ago.

Recently neuroscience has shown us the healing power of wonder, though previously underexplored and underappreciated. Now researchers echo what ecologist Rachel Carson believed was essential for human survival: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.” In the same spirit, I’ve launched a storytelling project and a YouTube channel called Healing Through Wonder, dedicated to the resilience-building gifts of awe and wonder for those living with grief and trauma.

Healing Through Wonder explores the power of moments that take our breath away and open our minds. In a post-pandemic, cynical world where many of us have lost faith in humanity or lost time doomscrolling through social media, it’s heartening to know that neuroscience research supports our awe-inspiring experiences despite the pessimism around us. Studies published by the Greater Good Science Center and the American Psychological Association show how our sense of wonder helps heal loneliness, trauma, and grief by giving us meaning, purpose, and a wider, more open perspective. In the past few years, exciting bestselling books such as Dacher Keltner’s Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life have been released on the neuroscience of wonder with evidence that even one moment of awe can transform our lives.

Indeed, one moment of awe did truly change my life—or saved my life. My story centers around a profound encounter with a blue heron at the age of twenty-four.

In 1979, as a homeless survivor of domestic violence, still running from my former partner, and in suicidal despair, I was ready to end it all at a campground alone by a river. I had a full bottle of valium in my hands, and beside me, another bottle of cheap red wine to wash it down. Out of the wide, twilight sky a majestic heron circled overhead and landed remarkably close to me—about ten feet away. In the dim, rising glow of the moon, the heron’s piercing eyes stared into mine, and I froze in amazement, entranced, causing me to stop swallowing the pills. This moment of sheer awe saved my life, as I realized there was just too much beauty and magic in the world to give up.

Naturally, after such a spiritual awakening, I followed herons to their wetland sanctuaries for years. Wandering and watching them quietly in their providence, I marveled at their stillness standing in shallow waters, or their determination to build nests with their mates, their elegance dancing in pairs as courtship, fishing, preening, and flying. I learned lessons about dignity, balance, grace, patience, the art of timing, and much more.

Robyn Houston-Bean, Founder of the Sun Will Rise Foundation, Co-host of the Healing Through Wonder project.

After four decades of wondrous encounters with herons and studying the neuroscience of wonder, I’ve joined with a colleague, Robyn Houston-Bean, the founder of the Sun Will Rise Foundation, to co-host storytelling sessions for our Healing Through Wonder project. Robyn has also found profound healing in experiences of awe and wonder and tells her story of a surprising encounter with a dragonfly after the death of her son, Nick. She describes a moment that took her breath away as the dragonfly stayed with her at her son’s graveside as she grieved, resting on her arm, her hand, hovering around her, following her. In her amazement and attunement to the dragonfly, she welcomed a sense of connection with her son and a sense of oneness with everything around her, opening to a warm, reassuring sense of peace. She now believes, as strongly as I do, that people struggling with grief, trauma, or addiction can be encouraged to claim their sense of awe and wonder in their healing—in nature, as well as in music and the arts, in spiritual rituals, in adventures and quests to other lands, in marveling at human acts of courage and ingenuity.  

Through the Sun Will Rise Foundation, Robyn facilitates groups for those who are grieving the death of a loved one due to substance use and she has heard many healing stories of wonder from group participants.

Thanks to Robyn and other storytelling guests from The Sun Will Rise Foundation as well as storytellers from SADOD (Support After a Death by Overdose), our Healing Through Wonder channel includes firsthand accounts of wondrous encounters and uncanny synchronicities. Reflecting on these unexpected, life-changing moments, we examine the healing effects of what captivated and transformed us.

On YouTube: Robyn Houston-Bean, Val Walker, and storytelling guests Carol Bowers and Tanya Lord

Stories of wonder, awe, enchantment, and reverence that had been secretly tucked away for decades are generously shared on our Healing Through Wonder channel. Our stories show how our wellbeing thrives on our willingness to open ourselves to encounters of awe and wonder, no matter how brief or fleeting or odd. There’s a whole, wide, dazzling world to amaze us beyond the din our overthinking minds, ruminations, or nagging inner chatter. Our willingness to look up and be amazed can turn a bad day around, or give us pause in a good way, or even change our whole outlook on life.

As our project develops and as Robyn and I learn more about the healing power of awe and wonder, I’ll be blogging here about the exciting science of awe as well as sharing experiences that have sparked our recovery from trauma and loss.

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About the Author

Val Walker is a contributing blogger for Psychology Today and the author of 400 Friends and No One to Call, released in 2020 with Central Recovery Press. Her first book, The Art of Comforting (Penguin/Random House, 2010), won the Nautilus Book award and was recommended by the Boston Public Health Commission as a guide for families impacted by the Boston Marathon Bombing. Val received her MS in rehabilitation counseling from Virginia Commonwealth University and is a rehabilitation consultant, speaker, and educator. Her articles and Q&As have appeared in AARP, Caregiver Space, Babyboomer.com, Caregiver Solutions, Time, Good Housekeeping, Coping with Cancer, Boston Globe Magazine, Belief Net, Marie Claire, and Sweety High. Keep up with Val at www.ValWalkerAuthor.com

You can also learn more about the Healing Through Wonder project through their YouTube channel, The Sun Will Rise Foundation, and Support After a Death by Overdose (SADOD) project.