I try to make an effort to be in awe every day.
If my sense of wonder gets dulled, so does everything else.
Awe can come from staring at a spider web on the front porch and considering how it was made overnight by a creature so small. How can that much material be processed in that body? What inputs are needed? It’s mind-boggling.
Awe can come from a Tweet about the age of the Appalachian Mountains.
Awe can come from contemplation of the countless strangers who mostly unknowingly coordinated their actions to bring this laptop to me, guided by the profit and loss signals in a market economy.
It doesn’t matter what it is or where it comes from. Getting myself into a place of genuine awe at least once each day is one of the healthiest practices I’ve found.