You didn’t expect to feel small.
And somehow, it made you feel vast.

Awe is not just wonder.
It’s disorientation.
Reverence.
The collapse of certainty in the face of something bigger than your mind can hold.

It arrives as a hush, a drop in your chest, a widened gaze.
It doesn’t explain. It *shows*.
And then it leaves you changed.

Awe says:
“There is more.”
“You are not the center, but you belong to it all.”
“Wonder is sacred.”

What Is Awe Trying to Tell You?

• You’ve encountered something beyond your usual frame of reference.
• Your heart and intellect are stretching to make room for it.
• You are being invited into humility — and connection.
• Beauty and mystery are not luxuries. They’re needs.

Invite Awe in for Tea

It may not speak in words.
It may only point, to a night sky, a newborn cry, a symphony, a silence.
You don’t need to impress it. Just sit beside it.

Ask it:
“Where did I forget the sacred?”
“What is this moment asking me to bow to?”
“How can I carry this vastness gently?”

Awe reminds you: there is always more sky.
You are not alone beneath it.

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower…”
— William Blake