Into the mystic volcanic vortex of incredible awe, elegance and inspiring transcendence
Hi, there. We're back from an easter week trip to Poland, which was entirely amazing and should be on everyone's list of places to visit, especially the town of Warcław (pronounced Vrotswaff), where you can spend the day seeking out the some 1,000+ bronze figurines of miniature dwarves that populate this beautiful medieval city.
A different kind of spectacle greeted us upon our return to Sicily, coming from the Mother of All Things herself, Mount Etna. Or simply, Montebello, Beautiful Mountain, as locals call it.
Stunning smoke rings made of gases and propelled by a circular vent in the volcano
It's called a volcanic vortex and while pretty rare, giving the impression of the old lady herself puffing her pipe as if about to regal us with some warning of cosmic proportion (and of which we would probably dismiss per usual), volcanologists say the rings pose no danger to humans or structures. For certain, it's been quite an interesting pastime watching them lift into the sky from our terrace.
If you want to learn a little more about the formation of vortex rings and the incredible power of volcanoes, check out this informative video.
What Awe Does For Us
With the solar eclipse occurring today (a few hours from now as I'm writing this), it's fitting that this week my topic is all about awe. I've been leading up to it for some while, with mention of the dog star, the Grammys, and even a tiny badass shrimp. But what is this thing we call awe and why is it important to our wellbeing?
Recently, there’s been a lot written about awe—an informative article here, a wonderful podcast there, and this in depth study going back a few years—so I’m not going to try and explain it here, but I do encourage you to check out those links if you’d like to dig deeper. There is really some great stuff in there, especially in the Slight Change of Plans podcast, so if nothing else do give a listen to that three part series.
Instead, I want to talk about time and light, one of which I wrote on recently, in the case of a close friend’s death and how gradually over the course of time we learn to take the things that happen to us, those memorable experiences, and package them in such a way that they shine profoundly in our thoughts and impact how we perceive the world. It was those tiny, seemingly insignificant memories I held of my friend that made me mindful of how much light they brought into my own world, which is, I believe, the whole point of living. To give light and to receive.
Take the experience of a lady mentioned in one of those links I shared above, as she reflected upon her summit of Mount Everest:
“Most awe-inspiring of all was simply being present to the moment, both to the world and to those around her as they suffered together in the cold and cheered each another on. That is where the magic is. I’m not living in the past, I’m not living in the future … I am just here.”
Present in the moment. To the world. To others. Embracing the magic. Being present, seeing yourself as part of something larger, be it the world entire or just some small square piece of it. That, to me, is the most honest description of awe, the need and acceptance to accommodate to open our eyes and allow in the great mystery and wonders of the universe.
