The Psychology Of Awe: What A Sunrise Does To The Mind

There is a particular moment just before sunrise when the world seems to become a little quieter.

The sky begins to change color. Shapes emerge from the darkness. Clouds that were almost invisible become outlined in pink, orange or gold. Then, almost imperceptibly, the horizon becomes brighter.

You might find yourself watching without checking the time. Without reaching for your phone. Without thinking particularly hard about anything at all.

And then the sun appears.

It is easy to describe this simply as beautiful. But sometimes a sunrise feels like more than beauty. It can leave you momentarily absorbed, humbled, surprised or deeply present.

Psychologists have a word for experiences like this: Awe.

Awe is one of the more fascinating emotions we can experience. It can be triggered by enormous landscapes, powerful music, extraordinary acts of kindness, the night sky, works of art, childbirth, scientific discoveries — and, for many people, the changing sky at the beginning of a new day.

So, what is actually happening in the mind when we experience that feeling?

 

What exactly is awe?

Awe is not simply another word for being impressed.

Psychologists Dacher Keltner and Jonathan Haidt proposed that awe generally involves two important ingredients: vastness and a need for accommodation.

Vastness means encountering something that feels considerably larger, more powerful, more complex or more significant than our ordinary frame of reference.

The second part is perhaps even more interesting.

A need for accommodation occurs when an experience doesn't quite fit into the mental framework we normally use to understand the world. Our minds have to adjust.

Think about standing beneath a huge night sky.

You know intellectually that the universe is enormous. But seeing an immense field of stars can make that knowledge feel different. The information hasn't necessarily changed. Your experience of its scale has.

A sunrise can create a smaller version of the same effect.

The Earth is turning. Light is scattering through the atmosphere. Clouds are reflecting different wavelengths of sunlight. The Sun is roughly 150 million kilometers away.

You may know all of this.

But watching the sky transform in front of you can make those facts feel surprisingly immediate.

The science becomes something you experience rather than something you simply know.

 

Why does a sunrise have the potential to create awe?

Not every sunrise produces awe.

Some mornings are grey. Some are obscured by cloud. Sometimes you're tired, distracted or simply not in the mood to notice.

And that's important.

A sunrise doesn't automatically create a particular psychological response. Awe is an experience that depends partly on the person, their circumstances and how they perceive what they are seeing.

But sunrise contains several qualities that can make awe possible.

Vastness

Look towards the horizon and there is very little obvious boundary.

The sky stretches above you. The horizon extends across your field of vision. Clouds can occupy enormous spaces, while colors can gradually spread across the entire landscape.

This sense of scale is one of the defining characteristics researchers associate with awe.

Complexity

A sunrise is also constantly changing.

The colors aren't simply switched on. They develop.

Dark blue becomes violet. Violet gives way to pink. Pink becomes orange. Shadows shift. Clouds brighten from underneath. Reflections appear on water.

Your brain is watching a complex visual event unfold in real time.

Surprise

Even when you watch the sunrise every day, you cannot completely predict what the sky will look like.

One morning might be almost cloudless.

The next might produce a dramatic wall of color.

Another might appear completely ordinary until a narrow gap in the clouds suddenly lights up.

That unpredictability matters because awe often involves encountering something that exceeds our expectations or ordinary mental framework.

And perhaps this is part of why watching the sunrise repeatedly never quite becomes the same experience twice.

 

Awe can make the self feel smaller

One of the most consistently discussed effects of awe is what researchers call the "small self".

This doesn't mean feeling worthless or insignificant.

It is closer to experiencing yourself as one small part of something much larger.

Research has found that awe can reduce the prominence of the individual self and shift attention towards the wider environment, other people or something larger than oneself.

Imagine arriving at the beach carrying a head full of problems.

Bills.

Work.

Messages.

Tomorrow's responsibilities.

The things you said yesterday.

The things you haven't done yet.

Then the horizon begins to glow.

For a few moments, those thoughts may not disappear. But they can become less dominant.

The sunrise doesn't solve the problems.

It simply changes the scale at which you are experiencing them.

That distinction is important.

Awe isn't a magical way of making life's difficulties disappear. Rather, research suggests that awe can temporarily shift our attention away from an intensely self-focused perspective.

Sometimes that change in perspective is valuable in itself.

 

Awe can change our experience of time

There is another intriguing finding in the psychology of awe: our perception of time can change.

In a series of experiments, people who experienced awe reported feeling as though they had more time available and were less impatient than people experiencing other emotional states. The researchers also found links between awe, preferences for experiences and greater life satisfaction.

This doesn't mean that awe literally gives us extra minutes in the day.

The clock keeps moving.

What can change is our subjective experience of those minutes.

This is particularly easy to recognize during a sunrise.

You might go outside intending to watch for five minutes.

Then you notice the clouds.

Then the colors.

Then the first light hitting the trees.

Then the horizon brightens.

Suddenly, fifteen minutes have passed.

Nothing extraordinary has happened in the conventional sense. You haven't travelled anywhere. You haven't completed a task.

You simply paid attention to something unfolding.

And for a little while, time may have felt different.

 

Awe can shift our attention beyond ourselves

The "small self" effect has another interesting consequence.

Awe appears to be associated with greater prosocial behavior — things such as generosity, helping and concern for others.

In one influential series of experiments involving more than 2,000 participants, experiences of awe were associated with reduced self-focus and increases in several forms of prosocial behavior.

Other research has similarly linked awe with collective engagement and feelings of connection.

It is tempting to turn this into a simple formula: Sunrise → awe → better person.

Human psychology isn't that straightforward.

Awe can be experienced in different ways, and not every experience of awe is pleasant. Awe can also contain elements of uncertainty, fear or even threat.

What the research does suggest is more subtle: experiences that make us feel part of something larger can sometimes loosen our attention from the narrow concerns of the self.

And that may make room for connection.

Connection with another person.

Connection with a place.

Connection with nature.

Or simply a renewed awareness that our individual lives are occurring within something much larger than ourselves.

 

Nature and awe seem to be closely connected

This is where sunrise becomes particularly interesting.

Awe isn't restricted to extraordinary experiences.

Research has found that everyday encounters with nature can evoke awe, and that awe can help explain some of the relationship between nature experiences and wellbeing.

That distinction matters.

You don't necessarily need to stand beneath a waterfall, climb a mountain or travel somewhere spectacular.

Sometimes the extraordinary is hiding inside something that happens every day.

The sky changes every morning.

The Earth turns every morning.

Light arrives every morning.

But because these things happen reliably, it is easy to stop noticing them.

Perhaps one of the interesting psychological qualities of watching a sunrise is that it takes an event we normally treat as background and deliberately puts it in the foreground.

You choose to notice.

 

Awe doesn't require understanding everything

There is something particularly beautiful about the relationship between awe and scientific understanding.

Learning how a sunrise works doesn't necessarily make it less beautiful.

In some ways, it can do the opposite.

Knowing that sunlight contains a spectrum of wavelengths helps explain the colors we see. Understanding atmospheric scattering helps explain why the sky can become so vividly colored when the Sun is low on the horizon.

And yet knowing the mechanism doesn't eliminate the experience.

You can understand the physics and still feel amazed.

In fact, awe itself involves a kind of cognitive tension: encountering something that requires us to adjust or expand the mental models we use to understand the world.

There is something wonderfully human about that.

We can simultaneously ask:

"How does this work?"

and

"How is this so beautiful?"

Those questions don't compete with one another.

They can deepen each other.

 

You don't have to feel awe every morning

This may be the most important part.

Watching the sunrise isn't a psychological hack that guarantees calm, happiness or wellbeing.

Some mornings you will feel amazed.

Some mornings you will feel peaceful.

Some mornings you will feel tired.

Some mornings you'll be thinking about the day ahead.

And sometimes you'll look at the sky and think, It's just a sunrise.

That's okay.

The research on awe is promising, but it is still a developing field. A large meta-analysis of experimental awe studies found that awe can influence experiences, judgements and behavior, while also highlighting the complexity of measuring the emotion and the different ways it can be induced.

The evidence therefore doesn't justify treating sunrise as a universal remedy for stress or poor wellbeing.

Nor does it mean that everyone needs to wake up before dawn.

The value may be much simpler.

A sunrise gives us an opportunity to encounter something larger than ourselves and to pay attention to it.

What happens psychologically after that will depend on the person.

 

Perhaps the real gift is perspective

There is a reason I keep coming back to the sunrise.

It isn't because every sunrise is spectacular.

Most aren't.

Some are barely visible.

Some are hidden behind clouds.

Some mornings, the most interesting thing happening in the sky is a faint change in brightness.

But that is part of what makes the practice meaningful.

When you watch enough sunrises, you start to notice that beauty doesn't always announce itself.

Sometimes it is dramatic.

Sometimes it is subtle.

Sometimes the sky turns completely orange.

Sometimes it is simply a pale blue horizon becoming a little brighter.

And occasionally, something happens that makes you stop and think:

Wow.

Perhaps that moment is awe.

Perhaps it is wonder.

Perhaps it is simply the feeling of being present for something beautiful.

Psychology can give us useful language for understanding these experiences. It can tell us that awe is associated with perceptions of vastness, a need to accommodate what we encounter, changes in self-perception, altered time perception and, in some circumstances, greater prosocial behavior.

But understanding the psychology doesn't have to reduce the mystery.

You can know that the colors are produced by sunlight interacting with the atmosphere and still be moved by the sight.

You can understand that the Earth is rotating and still marvel at the fact that you are standing here to watch another day arrive.

You can know that the sunrise will happen again tomorrow and still appreciate the one happening today.

Maybe that is one of the quiet powers of awe.

It reminds us that something doesn't have to be rare to be remarkable.

Sometimes we simply have to stop long enough to notice.


Sources & Further Reading

Dacher Keltner & Jonathan Haidt. "Approaching awe, a moral, spiritual, and aesthetic emotion."

Piff, Dietze, Feinberg, Stancato & Keltner. "Awe, the Small Self, and Prosocial Behavior."

Rudd, Vohs & Aaker. "Awe Expands People’s Perception of Time, Alters Decision Making, and Enhances Well-Being."

Anderson, Monroy & Keltner. "Awe in nature heals: Evidence from military veterans, at-risk youth, and college students."

Pérez, Lench, Thompson & North. "Experimental elicitations of awe: a meta-analysis."

Monroy & Keltner. "Awe as a Pathway to Mental and Physical Health."

This article is intended for general educational purposes and explores psychological research on awe and related experiences. It is not medical or psychological advice, and experiencing a sunrise or awe should not be considered a treatment for stress, mental health conditions, or any other health concern.

 

Editorial Notes

This article was developed with the assistance of artificial intelligence and reviewed and edited for clarity, accuracy, and alignment with Geometry From The Sun's values. Scientific and health-related information is supported by the sources listed above.


Geometry From The Sun exists to inspire people to reconnect with the sunrise. Explore our sunrise photography, wall art, and apparel, or simply join us in watching tomorrow's first light.

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