A Reset Button for the Human Brain

We've all noticed that children's play tends to be more imaginative when they're outdoors and scientists have proven it. This is likewise true for adults: we are all more innovative when outdoors.

We're not entirely sure why this is, but among the theories are that we've evolved to be more comfortable in open-ended spaces, ones with horizons and the infinite sky, rather than the confines of walls and ceilings; that direct access to nature, and plants in particular, has a connecting, rebalancing, and soothing effect; that we are more inclined to move our bodies while outdoors which is when our brains tend to work best. It's probably a combination of all of these things and more, but the one that strikes me as most profound is that when we're outdoors, we are far more likely to have access to the experience of awe.

I suppose I've been awed by the human creations of art or literature at times, but those moments are rare relative to nature's ability to make me drop my jaw. Trees, mountains, waterfalls, cloud formations, and wind have awed us all.

In her book The Extended Mind, science writer Annie Murphy Paul writes: "The experience of awe . . . prompts a predictable series of psychological changes. We become less reliant on preconceived notions and stereotypes. We become more curious and open-minded. And we become more willing to revise and update our mental "schemas" . . . The experience of awe has been called "a reset button" for the human brain. But we can't generate a feeling of awe, and its associated processes, all on our own; we have to venture out into the world, and find something bigger than ourselves, in order to experience this kind of internal change."

She goes on, "(I)t spurs humans to put aside their individual interests in the service of collective projects. Members of the species who were inclined to feel awe, the story goes, were better able to band together to accomplish essential tasks. By extending ordinary thinking with awe at nature's immensity, humankind may have ensured its own survival . . ."

Nature's immensity is part of it, but when we're with young children, we become aware that there is also awe to be found in the small things as well: insects, flowers, flowing water, pebbles. 

Earlier this week, I was talking with a colleague from another state, and as early childhood educators often do, we were swapping stories from the playground. She told me about a class of preschoolers making an impromptu study of ants on the playground. "There's a whole world down there!" She talked about children shouting out their awe-inspired observations, questions, and theories. She shook her head, her own face full of wonder, saying, "It was just awesome."

We've all been there, often many times a day.

Our work with young children is exhausting and emotional, but this is the reward. This is what children bring to us jaded adults, they remind us that it's not just the physical ceilings and walls that limit us, but the mental and emotional ones as well. They show us that every day, every moment, no matter what is going on, we can step outside and look to the sky or drop to our knees and encounter awe.

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Hi, I'm Teacher Tom and this is my podcast! If you're an early childhood educator, parent of preschoolers, or otherwise have young children in your life, I think you'll find my conversations with early childhood experts and thought-leaders useful, inspiring, and eye-opening. You might even come away transformed by the ideas and perspectives we share. Please give us a listen. You can find Teacher Tom's Podcast on the Mirasee FM Podcast Network or anywhere you download your podcasts.

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