The Power of Awe: What Science Is Discovering

For thousands of years, people have experienced awe without understanding what was happening. Now science is beginning to reveal how awe can change our attention, sense of self, connection to others, and experience of the world.

A note on this series: This is a five-article exploration of birds, attention, awe, and the RV lifestyle.

Notice → Understand → Experience → Awe → Meaning

Each article stands on its own but together they form a progression—from learning to pay attention to discovering why awe matters and how the RV lifestyle gives us opportunities to experience it.

For thousands of years, people have described awe. Philosophers wondered about it, poets tried to capture it, and generations of people experienced it without having a scientific explanation for what was happening.

Today, researchers are beginning to ask a different question: What happens to us when we experience awe?

The answers are still emerging. But the research is becoming difficult to ignore. Awe appears to affect not only how we feel but where we place our attention, how we see ourselves, and how connected we feel to the world around us.

And as I read the research, I kept finding something familiar.

I’ve been experiencing some of this for years.

Fall colors turn an ordinary scenic drive into a moment of awe. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

What exactly is awe?

When something exceeds our usual way of seeing the world

Before scientists can study awe, they have to define it.

In 2003, psychologists Dacher Keltner and Jonathan Haidt identified two essential elements: vastness and a need for accommodation.

Vastness doesn’t have to mean something enormous. It can be an idea, a person, music, an act of courage, or a landscape—anything that feels larger than our usual frame of reference.

Then comes accommodation. Our existing understanding isn’t quite enough, so our minds have to adjust.

We’ve all experienced it.

A landscape we weren’t prepared for. A piece of music that stops us. A bird doing something we’ve never seen before.

For a moment, we don’t need an explanation.

We simply experience it.

And perhaps that’s why awe captures our attention so completely.

The world has exceeded our expectations.

Discovering a unique bird can turn an ordinary moment into one of awe. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Awe captures our attention

For a moment, the mental noise gets quieter

We live in a world designed to compete for our attention. Notifications, headlines, advertising, schedules, and endless information keep asking us to look at one more thing.

Awe does something different.

It pulls our attention away from ourselves and toward the experience in front of us. Researchers describe this as a reduction in self-focused thinking—the constant mental commentary about our problems, plans, and place in the world.

I recognize that immediately.

It’s what happens when I stop to watch a bird. For a few minutes, I’m not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. I’m watching what is happening now.

The bird hasn’t asked me to meditate.

It has simply given my mind somewhere else to go.

Perhaps that’s one reason awe feels so refreshing.

For a moment, we stop thinking about ourselves and start paying attention to the world.

A Sonoran Desert sunset can leave us awestruck by the beauty of a landscape we thought we already knew. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Awe makes the self feel smaller

And the world feels larger

Another important finding in awe research is the “small self.”

It doesn’t mean feeling unimportant. It means that, for a moment, our own concerns occupy less of our attention.

Think of standing beneath a star-filled sky, looking across a vast landscape, or watching a bird go about its life, completely unaware of our worries.

For a moment, we aren’t the center of the story.

Our problems may still be there but they no longer fill the entire frame.

Perhaps that is one of awe’s quiet gifts: It doesn’t make our world smaller. It makes our place in it feel larger.

A mountain vista can fill us with awe by revealing a world far larger than ourselves. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Awe connects us

Beyond ourselves and toward one another

If awe makes the self feel smaller, it may also make room for connection.

Research has linked awe with greater connectedness and prosocial behaviors such as generosity, cooperation, and helping others. When our own concerns become less dominant, we may become more aware of the people and world around us.

I’ve felt this while traveling.

A shared view from a trail. A conversation with a stranger at a campground. Two people stopping to watch the same bird.

For a moment, the usual boundaries between us seem less important.

Awe can make us feel part of something larger.

Pausing along a forest lane in autumn, I found myself surrounded by the quiet awe of the season. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Awe and the body

When attention changes, something else may change too

Awe may reach beyond our thoughts and emotions. Researchers are finding evidence that it can influence how the body responds to stress although this science is still developing.

Studies have linked experiences of awe with lower perceived stress and, in some experiments, lower physiological arousal.

That interests me because it connects with something I’ve practiced for years: mindfulness.

When I slow down and pay attention, I’m not trying to make anything happen. I’m simply noticing what is already there.

Perhaps awe does something similar.

It gives the mind—and perhaps the body—a reason to slow down.

The sculpted formations of the badlands inspire awe as nature reveals the power of time and erosion. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Fifteen minutes can be enough

The experiment that made me think about mindfulness

One study particularly caught my attention.

Researchers asked older adults to take a 15-minute outdoor walk once a week for eight weeks. One group simply walked; the other was asked to look for moments of awe.

The awe-walk group experienced more awe, joy, compassion, and other positive emotions, along with less daily distress. Their photographs also suggested a growing sense of the “small self” as their attention shifted toward the world around them.

The walks were the same.

Fifteen minutes was the same.

What changed was where they placed their attention.

That sounds remarkably like mindfulness to me.

I’ve spent years learning to slow down, notice what is around me, and stay with the moment rather than rush past it.

The researchers called it an awe walk.

I’ve simply called it paying attention.

The otherworldly beauty of White Sands can inspire awe by making us feel as though we’ve stepped into another world. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Awe can be cultivated

We don’t have to wait for it to find us

Perhaps the most encouraging finding is that we don’t have to wait for awe to happen. Research suggests we can become more receptive to it by slowing down, paying attention, and deliberately noticing what we might otherwise overlook.

That feels familiar to me.

Mindfulness taught me to pay attention. Slow travel taught me not to hurry past what deserves attention. Birding taught me to look and listen more carefully.

Perhaps I’ve been cultivating awe without knowing its name.

Maybe awe isn’t something we find. Maybe it’s something we learn to notice.

I think that is stronger. And it sets us up beautifully for the next part of the article where we can move from what the research says to what all of this means in our own lives.

A meandering mountain stream reflecting the colors of autumn can inspire a quiet sense of awe. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

What we don’t know yet

Science is still learning

The science of awe is promising but it is still young. Researchers don’t agree on every aspect of how awe works or how lasting its effects may be. Some findings are strong; others need more study.

That doesn’t diminish what we’ve learned.

It simply reminds us that awe is an experience we are beginning to understand, not one science has already explained.

Even a single flower can inspire awe when we pause long enough to notice its beauty. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

The world feels different

Perhaps that is the power of awe

The science of awe is still young but a pattern is emerging. Awe can draw our attention outward, quiet our preoccupation with ourselves, and deepen our connection with the world and others. Researchers are still working out exactly how and how lasting these effects may be.

What interests me most is how little may be required.

A walk. A bird. A landscape. A few minutes of paying attention.

Perhaps awe doesn’t change the world around us.

Perhaps it changes the way we experience the world we’re already in.

Continue the series

← Previous: The Power of Awe: An Ancient Human Experience

Next → The Bird in You
How learning to observe and understand birds can lead us toward awe.

Enjoyed this article?

Share it with friends, fellow RVers, or your social network to inspire their next adventure.

Editor’s note

This article was originally published in September 2026. Information reflects what was accurate at the time of writing. Conditions, access, and amenities may change over time, so please verify current details before planning your trip.

To maintain transparency and editorial independence, this website contains no ads, no sponsored content, and no affiliate links—just firsthand RV travel experiences and practical information for fellow travelers.

The Power of Awe: An Ancient Human Experience

Long before scientists began studying awe, philosophers wondered why certain experiences stop us in our tracks. From ancient Greek wonder to modern psychology, the story of awe may begin with something surprisingly simple: paying attention.

A note on this series: This is a five-article exploration of birds, attention, awe, and the RV lifestyle.

Notice → Understand → Experience → Awe → Meaning

Each article stands on its own but together they form a progression—from learning to pay attention to discovering why awe matters and how the RV lifestyle gives us opportunities to experience it.

Awe is not a new idea. Long before scientists began studying it, philosophers and writers were trying to understand what happens when we encounter something larger than ourselves.

Perhaps awe is also one of the things that makes a life fully lived. It interrupts the ordinary, pulls us out of ourselves, and reminds us that there is more to the world than what occupies our immediate attention.

I’ve written about mindfulness, slow travel, and learning to speak bird without realizing they share a common thread.

Pay attention.

Perhaps that is where awe begins.

A familiar bird can become something more when we slow down, look closely, and allow ourselves to wonder. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Wonder begins the search

The ancient Greeks had a word for it: thauma

Long before awe became a subject for modern psychology, the ancient Greeks were fascinated by wonder—thauma—the experience of encountering something remarkable, mysterious, or difficult to explain.

For them, wonder wasn’t simply a feeling. It could be the beginning of inquiry.

In Theaetetus, Plato has Socrates describe wonder as the beginning of philosophy. Aristotle made a similar observation in Metaphysics, suggesting that philosophy began with our wondering about the world around us—the moon, the sun, the stars, and ultimately existence itself.

We tend to think of awe as something that stops us in our tracks. But perhaps stopping is only the beginning.

Awe can be found not only in grand landscapes, but in the devotion, craftsmanship, and quiet beauty of places created by ordinary people. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Wonder makes us look again.

A bird can be just a bird. Or we can stop and wonder where it came from, what it sees, what it hears, and what it is saying.

The bird hasn’t changed.

Our attention has.

And perhaps that is the first clue to the power of awe.

Looking beyond ourselves

The Stoics and the larger world

The Stoics took wonder in another direction. They looked at nature as an ordered whole and encouraged us to step outside our narrow concerns and consider our place within it.

Marcus Aurelius often contemplated the stars, the seasons, and the vastness of nature—not simply as things to admire but as reminders that our individual troubles occupy a very small place in a much larger world.

There is something remarkably familiar in that.

Awe can change the scale at which we see our lives. A problem that fills our attention can seem different beneath a night sky, watching a storm cross the desert, or listening to birdsong.

The problem hasn’t necessarily disappeared.

But we’re no longer looking at it from the same place.

Perhaps that is another power of awe: it reminds us that we are part of something larger than ourselves.

Deep beneath the earth, the sheer scale and otherworldly beauty of the caverns evoke the sublime—a feeling of wonder when we encounter something beyond our ability to fully comprehend. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

When the world becomes sublime

Burke, Kant, and the experience of vastness

More than two thousand years after the Greeks wrote about wonder, Edmund Burke gave the experience a new language: the sublime.

In 1757, Burke wrote about things vast, powerful, dark, or overwhelming. The sublime could produce such astonishment that ordinary thought seemed to fall away.

Immanuel Kant later took the idea further. For him, the sublime arose when we encountered something so immense that our ability to comprehend it seemed inadequate.

A mountain. A storm. The ocean. A star-filled sky.

The important thing wasn’t simply the thing itself but what happened within us when we encountered it.

Sometimes we meet something that doesn’t fit neatly into our understanding. We have to stop, take it in, and make room for something larger.

Perhaps that is why awe can feel so powerful.

For a moment, the world exceeds us.

Nature’s wonders don’t have to be vast to inspire awe. Sometimes a simple arch of stone is enough to make us stop, look closer, and wonder how it came to be. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Nature as a doorway

Emerson and the receptive mind

By the nineteenth century, Ralph Waldo Emerson was looking at nature differently. In Nature, published in 1836, he suggested that the natural world could change us when we were truly open to it.

Nature wasn’t simply scenery. It was an experience.

Look at the stars, Emerson suggested, and ordinary concerns can fall away. Enter the woods with an open mind, and the familiar can become new again.

The stars haven’t changed. The woods haven’t changed.

We have changed the way we see them.

Emerson understood something that will become important throughout this series: we don’t always need to travel farther or find something extraordinary. Sometimes we simply need to be present enough to notice what is already there.

Perhaps the experience isn’t about finding a more extraordinary world.

Perhaps it’s about becoming more receptive to the one we already inhabit.

A trail through nature invites us to slow down, pay attention, and discover the quiet moments of awe waiting just beyond the next bend. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

From wonder to science

The question changes

For thousands of years, people could describe awe, wonder, and the sublime. They could tell us what it felt like to encounter something larger than themselves. What they couldn’t do was ask, scientifically, what was happening to them.

That began to change in recent decades.

In 2003, psychologists Dacher Keltner and Jonathan Haidt proposed a framework for studying awe, identifying two essential features: vastness and a need for accommodation—the feeling that what we’re experiencing is so expansive that our existing understanding has to stretch to take it in.

It was an important shift.

Awe was no longer simply something philosophers described.

It had become something scientists could investigate.

And that raises a fascinating question: If humans have experienced awe for thousands of years, what is modern science beginning to discover about what it actually does to us?

Awe doesn’t always wait in the wilderness. Sometimes it lands on the motorhome, reminding us that wonder can find us when we simply pay attention. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

The question becomes personal

Perhaps I have been experiencing awe all along

That question brings me back to my own experience.

For years I’ve written about mindfulness without thinking of it as a way of finding awe. I’ve written about slow travel without thinking of it as creating the conditions for awe. I’ve written about learning to speak bird without realizing that birds were teaching me the same lesson.

Pay attention.

Perhaps that is where awe begins.

A bird outside the RV window. A landscape that makes me stop. The quiet of a desert morning. An old building that suddenly makes history feel present.

None required finding something extraordinary.

They required me to notice.

Perhaps that is why this ancient experience remains so relevant. The world hasn’t become less capable of inspiring awe.

We’ve simply become very good at looking past it.

Standing before an immense waterfall, we are reminded of our smallness and the extraordinary forces of nature that shape the world around us. © Rex Vogel, all rights reserved

Where awe leads

From understanding to experiencing

The more I looked into awe, the more I realized I hadn’t discovered a new subject. I had discovered a thread running through much of what I’ve written about for years.

Birds taught me to pay attention.

Slow travel taught me to linger.

RVing gave me the time and freedom to do both.

Perhaps these aren’t separate interests after all. Perhaps they are different ways of experiencing the same thing.

Awe.

In the articles that follow, I want to explore that connection—not as a theory but through the experiences that have taught me something about paying attention.

And I’ll begin with the creatures that may be our best teachers.

Continue the series

Next → The Power of Awe: What Science Is Discovering
What science is beginning to reveal about this ancient human experience.

Enjoyed this article?

Share it with friends, fellow RVers, or your social network to inspire their next adventure.

Editor’s note

This article was originally published in September 2026. Information reflects what was accurate at the time of writing. Conditions, access, and amenities may change over time, so please verify current details before planning your trip.

To maintain transparency and editorial independence, this website contains no ads, no sponsored content, and no affiliate links—just firsthand RV travel experiences and practical information for fellow travelers.

Enjoyed this article?

Share it with friends, fellow RVers, or your social network to inspire their next adventure.

Editor’s note

This article was originally published in September 2026. Information reflects what was accurate at the time of writing. Conditions, access, and amenities may change over time, so please verify current details before planning your trip.

To maintain transparency and editorial independence, this website contains no ads, no sponsored content, and no affiliate links—just firsthand RV travel experiences and practical information for fellow travelers.