It’s happening again! Something I read a few years ago has been regularly resurfacing in my mind. From previous experience I’ve learned those thoughts are not likely to go anywhere until I give them some attention. And because the timing now feels so right, I’m ready to put in the effort.

In one of his books, Father Gregory Boyle references Julian of Norwich, who said that the truest and most authentic spiritual life was one that produced three things: awe, humility, and love. He continued by stating that, of those three qualities, often times awe gets lost along the way.

That’s it! The mesmerizing effect this passage has had on me seems based on a singular word: awe.

AWE!

Such an incredibly powerful punch packed into those three letters! Just thinking about the word can raise my spirits, as well as goosebumps on my arms. AWE, as in WONDER, ASTONISHMENT, AMAZEMENT.

Yes, that tiny word impressed me so much that, at long last, I’ve decided to claim it as my word of the year for 2022. If I were into tattoos, I’d have it permanently inked onto my hand to constantly remind me of my new focus.

Children and puppies appear to naturally epitomize the kind of awe I’m yearning to find. Reveling in every new life experience, they engage fully and display their pleasure and their astonishment effortlessly.

Maybe I, too, lived that way once many years ago. But somewhere along my journey, much of my awe-feeling capacity seems to have gotten lost. Did I hide it away because I felt pressured to conform to a more subdued way of viewing the world? Did I start to take things for granted and become jaded? Or, did I get caught up in the world’s busyness and just lose sight of all the wondrous things around me?

Restoration, please

I’m not sure how my ability to feel awe diminished. What I do know is I’m now at a point in my life where I long to recapture that feeling of excitement. I know it’s achievable if I slow down and look more closely at my surroundings. Nature is full of wonder. There is amazement in our daily life experiences. And, there is awe in the blessedness of our human connections. All I need is to be attentive and to peer more deeply through the eyes of my childhood, eyes that once easily marveled at the smorgasbord of life.

As eager as I am to take this step, I realize it’s really a lesson from the introductory course, “Awe 101.” What I hope for is to ultimately advance to the next phase, to live with a more evolved sense of awe. I want to feel awe in the midst of challenging experiences. I want to see awe in people who aren’t easy to love, particularly those who’ve disappointed or hurt me or others I care about.

Getting to that level appears to be a monumental undertaking—seemingly impossible, in fact.

The biggest obstacle I’ll have to deal with is my ego. Though it claims to be my friend, my ego tends to create barriers and hamper love. It falsely lets me believe I’m in charge. Always wanting me to be right, it allows me to compare myself to others and then encourages me to pass judgment on them or on myself.

And I’ve come to understand that judging—any kind of judging—is an absolute deal-breaker when it comes to awe.

As Father Greg points out, it’s impossible to do awe and judgment at the same time. His words remind me that the very nanosecond I resort to judgment, I’ve lost my way. I have just slammed the door shut on awe.

I find myself now at that fork in the road. I claim to desire that deeper spirituality, the one based on humility, love, and awe. If I am truly seeking that path, I have to let go of the judgment. It all has to stop—the criticizing and complaining, assigning labels, or jumping to any kind of conclusion about others. It doesn’t matter if my judging is verbalized, posted on social media, or even hidden in my thoughts. Every single bit of it is toxic.

Words of wisdom

The antidote Boyle offers with his loving heart and profound wisdom is this:

“Here is what we seek: a compassion that can stand in awe at what [others] have to carry rather than stand in judgment at how they carry it.”

My pulse quickens, and suddenly I feel more hopeful because I remember a time when I could do that very thing. When I was teaching at the juvenile detention center, I learned to stand in awe at what our students had to carry. We didn’t rush to judge them. We saw the overwhelming challenges they often faced. We didn’t overlook their misdeeds, but we were also able to see their human sacredness. We even acknowledged that we’d most likely learn to love the most unlovable among them if they were with us long enough.

So I know I do have the capacity to stand in awe of what others carry. We all have that ability.

For me, the trick to build on that power is to catch myself every time I default to judging. I need to recognize where I’ve allowed my ego to lead. Then I have to interrupt the thought pattern and remind myself of the path I want to walk. It requires constantly checking in with that untamed busy mind of mine.

And as I commit to regularly practicing this kind of awe, it’s presence in my life will continue to grow and get stronger. I’ll be able to meet those I encounter with an offering of grace. I may not know the particulars of the burdens they’ve carried. Still, I’ll know they have them, and I’ll be able to offer compassion when I keep my ego at bay. It’s easy to imagine this opening and connecting because, as Boyle says, “our practice of awe empties a room, and suddenly there is space for expansive compassion.”

With the limitations of my human form, I have no illusions of ever ascending to the mountaintop of awe. Even so, I’m inspired to stay the course, keeping my focus fixed firmly on that peak. Every time I immerse myself in awe, I sense an incredible lightness. Each experience is a step into holiness, affirming with all certainty an alignment with God and the oneness of all creation.