Tallying Awe

by Angela Repke, Learning Specialist

- about a 3-minute read

A few weeks ago, a quick and furious hailstorm swept through our campus. Just before Quiet Period, students and teachers alike filed into the auditorium looking as though they’d all gone swimming. Mrs. Blondia’s Hiking Class almost decided to stay put for the afternoon—but after only ten minutes, the sun began to poke her brave head through the clouds. So up we trekked to the top of Pyramid Point.

On our way, we noticed clusters of hail—small pockets of tiny balled icicles huddled together in the dirt and clinging to leaves, reminders of the storm that had just passed. When we reached the top, the vast expanse of Lake Michigan took our breath away, just as it always does. The students explored, climbed a tree or two, and then we all paused for one last look at the lake before heading back down. That’s when we saw them: two rainbows arcing across the sky. We stood there together, oohing and aahing at the simple wonder of it all.

The next morning, I read a poem by the late Andrea Gibson, “Acceptance Speech After Setting the World Record in Goosebumps.” In it, they count the number of goosebumps sparked by moments of awe. It’s a stunning poem about learning to stay open to wonder, and how such openness can soften and expand the heart. Here are just a few of Andrea’s words, carefully tallying awe:

  “Blood donors in Sweden receive
  A thank-you message

  when their blood is used:
     301 Nordic goosebumps.
  The octopus documentary:
     54 goosebumps, multiplied by 8.
  The biggest dog in the shelter
  hiding behind a teacup chihuahua,
  and the woman who came to adopt a cat
  taking all three of them home:
     1,012 goosebumps.”

Here at The Leelanau School, we know that a good life isn’t measured by degrees, cars, or houses—it’s measured by our willingness to be moved. When "beauty catches us and doesn't let us go."

So below, you’ll find a few of my own “measures of awe” from this fall, all very scientifically calculated:

A student looking another in the eyes to offer a sincere apology:135 goosebumps

 

Confetti exploding on the Common App after a senior submitted their first college application: 214 goosebumps

 

Mr. Blondia’s class discovering trees gnawed by beavers—then hearing one fall deep in the woods: 109 goosebumps

 

A beautiful and brave line of student-written poetry: 332 goosebumps

 

Singing “Happy Birthday” to four students in the same FAU: 400 goosebumps

 

The joy on a bookstore owner’s face as students volunteered with care and enthusiasm: 1,039 goosebumps

If we pay attention, our skin could be covered in goosebumps every day. We just have to stay open to it.

On our trek back down from Pyramid Point, the hail had vanished—no trace of the storm remained. We all knew it had happened, but our focus had shifted. We had seen the rainbows. We were brave enough to let awe in.

And without even realizing it, we learned something essential: carrying joy is much lighter than carrying sorrow.