Awesome? Think Again
If there ever was a word that has been beaten with a stick to the point of meaninglessness, it is AWESOME!
Ever since the 1980s, everything has become awesome. Paleoetymologists trace this appalling misfortune to Wayne’s World, from which it quickly spread across the globe.
Sucked dry by universal use for every situation possibly known to mankind, everything is awesome. Isn’t that awesome?
No, it isn’t awesome. In fact, the antithesis to awesome defines it: It sucks. Worduseologists confirm that 98% of Americans can and will communicate absolutely everything of non-importance by bantering the expressions awesome and it sucks.
If it isn’t awesome, it sucks. If it sucks, it isn’t awesome.
Awesome is a flamboyantly dumb actor when one considers its distant, kooky cousin: awe.
Awe? What is awe?
The moment a toddler finds a puppy leaping joyfully under the Christmas tree.
The moment the father embraces the bride for the father-daughter dance.
The moment the soldier smothers his children and wife with hugs upon coming home.
The moment a firstborn baby gasps its first breath and starts to cry, and the new mother cries too—tears of joy.
Even small moments evoke awe. A sunset. A flower blooming. A campfire. A call from an old friend.
There was an old Hindi man from a small village, an immigrant to the United States. He had a young son, Neil. The father constantly spoke to his son about all the wonders their new country provided. Running water. A heater. A school and a hospital just across the street. Simple things, but wondrous things when compared to the poor village they left. Thanks to his father, his son grew up with a sense of gratitude and awe.
As he grew older, Neil continued the practice of looking for small moments of awe, moments of wonder. He began to write them down, and by the time he was a young man, he had pages and pages of simple moments of wonder and awe. He called it his Book of Awesome.
Soon, he shared his small collection online, and his followers responded by sending their own moments of awe. He created a blog that eventually reached millions of viewers, spreading his practice of contemplating moments of awe. Then he published The Book of Awesome, followed by eight more books. His TEDx talk “The Three A’s of Awesome” is ranked as the ninth most popular inspiring of all time, with over three million views.
Besides Neil Pasricha, I can also thank the pandemic for learning and living in awe. The very first week during the shutdown gave me time to find an e-book promoting the practice of noticing awe each morning. I had been writing three things to be grateful for every day, so I added a daily moment of awe as well.
An unexpected check in the mail. A bike ride surrounded by fall colors. Cuddling myself with my Mom’s quilt that she sewed lovingly a half-century ago. Wildlife wandering across our property. A family reunion. A barbecue with all the fixings. The first snowfall of the winter.
This practice allowed me to search for awe, and yes, if I look, I find it. This has been going on for five years now.
Awe benefits health, wholeness, body, mind, and soul.
And it’s free.
That’s awesome.
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