Narrator: In the final moments of his brother Rolf’s life, as the family gathered around his bedside in the Sierra foothills, psychologist Dacher Keltner felt an unexpected emotion rise amidst the profound grief. Holding his brother's shoulder, he was overcome not just by sorrow, but by a sense of awe—a feeling of being connected to the vast, mysterious cycle of life and death, to the deep love that bound them, and to the courage his brother showed. How could an emotion so associated with wonder and grandeur appear at a moment of such devastating loss? This question became the driving force behind his work.

In his book, Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life, Keltner embarks on a journey to demystify this powerful yet often overlooked emotion. He argues that awe is not a rare luxury reserved for mountaintop vistas or cosmic revelations, but a fundamental human need and an accessible pathway to a healthier, more meaningful, and connected existence.

Narrator: For much of scientific history, awe was considered too elusive and subjective to study. But Keltner defines it with scientific precision: awe is the emotion we experience when we encounter vast mysteries that we don’t understand. "Vastness" doesn't just mean physical size; it can be a vast idea, a vast display of skill, or a vast act of courage. This encounter with the incomprehensible challenges our existing mental frameworks and forces us to accommodate new information.

To understand where people find this feeling, Keltner’s lab collected thousands of stories from 26 countries. The analysis revealed a surprising consistency in the sources of awe, which he calls the "eight wonders of life." These are: the moral beauty of others (their kindness, courage, and strength), collective effervescence (the feeling of moving in unison with a crowd), nature, music, visual design, spirituality and religion, life and death, and epiphanies (big ideas). Contrary to popular belief, the most common source of awe reported worldwide was not a dramatic sunset, but witnessing the moral beauty of another person's actions. This discovery reframes awe as a deeply social and accessible emotion, available to anyone, anywhere.

Narrator: The transformative power of awe lies in its effect on our sense of self. Keltner explains that awe induces a state he calls the "small self." When confronted with something vast, our own concerns, anxieties, and ego-driven narratives shrink in comparison. This isn't a feeling of worthlessness, but rather a liberating sense of being part of something much larger.

This phenomenon is observable in both behavior and brain activity. In one study conducted in Yosemite National Park, researchers asked visitors to draw a picture of themselves. Those looking at the awe-inspiring vistas of the valley drew significantly smaller self-portraits than a control group at the more mundane Fisherman's Wharf. This "small self" effect is also reflected in the brain. Awe has been shown to reduce activity in the Default Mode Network (DMN), the part of the brain associated with self-referential thought, rumination, and anxiety. By quieting this internal chatter, awe opens us up to the world, fostering curiosity, wonder, and a greater connection to our surroundings.

Narrator: While we often associate awe with nature or art, Keltner’s research reveals that its most frequent trigger is witnessing the exceptional virtue of others. This "moral beauty" can be seen in grand acts of heroism or quiet displays of compassion. To illustrate this, Keltner shares his experiences at San Quentin State Prison, where he worked with inmates in a restorative justice program. He expected to find a world defined by violence and despair, but instead, he found profound sources of awe.

He tells the story of Steven Czifra, a man who, after a traumatic childhood and years of incarceration, found an unlikely path to transformation. While in solitary confinement, a librarian gave him a copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. The line, "I love the name of honor more than I fear death," sparked an epiphany. This encounter with an idea of moral courage, followed by mentorship from a teacher, set him on a new course. Czifra eventually co-founded the Underground Scholars Initiative at UC Berkeley, helping other formerly incarcerated individuals pursue higher education. His story, and those of other inmates who found awe in their daughter's forgiveness or a cellmate's kindness, demonstrates that moral beauty is a powerful, accessible force for change, found even in the most unlikely of places.

Narrator: Two of the most potent and healing sources of awe are nature and collective movement. Keltner explores "wild awe" not just as a pleasant feeling, but as a biological necessity that can heal our bodies and minds. He points to research showing that experiences of awe can lower levels of cytokines, the proteins that signal inflammation in the body. Chronic inflammation is linked to depression, heart disease, and other illnesses, suggesting that regular doses of awe can have tangible health benefits.

This is powerfully illustrated by the story of Stacy Bare, a U.S. Army veteran who returned from Iraq with severe depression and PTSD. On the brink of suicide, a friend dragged him on a rock-climbing trip. High on a cliff face, frozen with fear, Bare had an epiphany: he needed to get outdoors. Nature became his therapy. The vastness of the wilderness helped him put his own trauma into perspective, and he went on to found an organization that connects veterans with outdoor adventures. Similarly, "collective effervescence"—the synchrony we feel when dancing, singing, or cheering with a crowd—dissolves the boundaries of the self and merges us into a larger whole, creating powerful bonds and a shared sense of identity.

Narrator: The final and most profound wonder of life is epiphany—the sudden realization of a big idea. Keltner argues that the ultimate epiphany delivered by all forms of awe is the understanding that we are part of vast, interconnected systems. Awe shifts our thinking from a reductionist view of separate objects to a holistic view of interdependent networks.

He concludes with the story of Charles Darwin, who, after observing a "tangled bank" of plants, insects, and worms on a riverbank, had a world-changing epiphany. He didn't just see individual species; he saw a complex, interdependent system governed by natural laws. Darwin wrote, "There is grandeur in this view of life," a clear expression of awe. This realization—that from a simple beginning, "endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved"—is the core of systems thinking. Awe, Keltner concludes, is the emotion that allows us to perceive these systems, whether it's an ecosystem, a social network, a piece of music, or the cycle of life and death. It helps us find our place within them, integrating our small self into the grand, mysterious, and wonderful fabric of existence.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Awe is that this powerful emotion is not a fleeting, extravagant experience, but a vital, everyday nutrient for the human spirit. Dacher Keltner repositions awe as a basic need, as essential to our well-being as connection and purpose. By scientifically demonstrating its benefits—from reducing inflammation and quieting the ego to fostering kindness and creativity—he provides a compelling case for its deliberate cultivation.

The book's true impact lies in its practical roadmap for rediscovering this fundamental emotion. The challenge it leaves us with is to look beyond the grand and seek out the "eight wonders" in our daily lives: to find awe not just in a canyon, but in a colleague's courage; not just in a symphony, but in the rhythm of a city; and not just in a starry sky, but in the profound mystery of our own interconnected existence.