A Daily Dose of Awe 

One of my favorite outdoor activities is running in Sue-meg State Park. I start on Patrick's Point Drive; the stretch of road between the two beautiful wooden signs marking the turnoff and the entrance station is like a red carpet laid out by the park's welcoming committee.

Past the entrance station, I turn left at the first intersection and run toward the south end of the park. The view from the Palmer's Point parking area never fails to transport me outside myself. I stop, if only briefly, at the second bench to take in the view, which can be a wall of fog beyond which I can hear the ocean below but not see it, or a wall of blue cut across by the horizon, or any of the possible variations in between. It's my place of awe.

A year ago, I would not have written this last sentence, but then I read an article in the New York Times by Hope Reese dedicated to awe. It helped me not only get a definition of what I knew I experienced often, but also think about it from a scientific point of view.

The article explains that while "awe wasn't one of the six basic emotions — anger, surprise, disgust, enjoyment, fear and sadness — identified back in 1972," recent research shows that "our bodies respond differently when we are experiencing awe than when we are feeling joy, contentment or fear."

My favorite definition of awe is what Sharon Salzberg called "the absence of self-preoccupation." Awe is when I feel totally present in this world, absorbed in the observation and experience of something that goes beyond me. Basically, the view from the bench in Sue-meg State Park.

I like this definition because it leaves space not only for awe-inspiring experiences like hiking among the redwoods, visiting the Colosseum in Rome or rowing on Humboldt Bay early in the morning, but also for observing a hummingbird hovering outside our window, listening to a song or piece of music that moves us, reading a poem that touches us deeply. We don't need to fly over Niagara Falls or stand in front of the Great Sphinx of Giza to be awed. We just find something that takes self-preoccupation out of the picture.

The article gives some suggestions to facilitate awe and among them I highlight paying attention to what is around us and, its companion, practicing mindfulness. The idea is to bring our focus on what is already in our world and experience it with all our senses. At the same time, being open to novelty: If you always run or hike on one trail, next time try a different one.

After my stop to get my dose of awe, I continue my run retracing my steps briefly then turning left into the Rim Trail, which brings me toward the Agate Beach parking area. In the winter, early in the morning, I have the trail pretty much to myself. My feet appreciate landing on the trail's soft terrain, my lungs get their fill of the cool ocean-scented air, my eyes can never get enough of the view, be it fog, calm water or long, foamy waves.

On the way back, I take the road toward the exit and usually cut across the meadow and run past Sumêg Village, the native plant garden, finally coming out behind the visitor center. Past the entrance station the sign thanking me for visiting makes me smile: I am the one thankful for this awe-inspiring place. What I carry home with me is inner peace and energy.

My wish for you for the new year is to be awed often and be aware of it for your wellbeing.

P.S. If you need a reason to travel to Sue-meg Park for a run, on Saturday, Jan. 20, the Six Rivers Running Club hosts the 52nd Sue-meg Park run: 5K and 10K starting at 10 a.m. Details are on the club's website 6rrc.com. Enjoy a fun event and a beautiful run through the park.

Simona Carini (she/her) shares photographs of her outdoor explorations (and of food) on Instagram @simonacarini. Her awesome experiences in Sue-meg State Park inspired three of the poems included in her collection Survival Time from Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, simonacarini.com.