Awestruck 3: Awe, Wonder and More

In an interview with Thomas Burnett for the John Templeton Foundation, Dacher Keltner—the founder of the field of study of awe and wonder—says that, “Awe is often about hardship. It’s about grappling with mystery and the end of life and struggle and trauma.” 

The difficult times amplify the moments where we experience awe. Going through the bad makes the little matter more. Whether it’s going through a breakup, poverty, or losing someone you love, the things that give you the hope it’s not all bad signify so much more. It’s one of the reasons keeping your eye out for the things that inspire awe and wonder in your day to day can be so beneficial to your well being.

III. April 9, 2025, Portland, Oregon

Portland is the second stop on Beabadoobee’s The Space In Between tour, and she’s playing Theater of the Clouds. 

I had been wanting to go to the show since she announced the tour dates—because the last time she had come to Portland, I wanted to go and that just hadn’t worked out—but I didn’t want (or have the funds) to spend an exorbitant amount of money on a ticket. My best friend had been keeping an eye on ticket prices for a couple of days before, in case they got cheap enough to be a good deal. On the day of, we ended up spending 32ish dollars each on two seats in the 200’s, which in this day and age, isn’t bad for concert tickets. 

Before this, I’d never seen a show in the Theater of the Clouds before, just the full Moda Center, but just closing off half of the arena transforms the almost-too-big for a concert space into somewhere that feels like a slightly bigger than normal concert hall. It’s still packing thousands of people into a big space, but it’s more intimate and involved. 

We were there before the doors opened, waiting for our turn to enter in the bag check line and I’m glad it’s nice out. This day had been one of the random, nice ones before the long stretch of sunny days had hit. We people watch and chat about this and that as we wait to go in. Everyone is dressed up and happy to be there and it’s fun to see.

The merch line doesn’t take too long, and after our purchases of a poster each and a shirt for me, we find our seats. 

There are two openers, Keni Titus and Pretty Sick, which are both artists that are new to me, and who you should definitely give a listen. 

My friend loves Keni Titus (she even said she was there for her just as much as she was Beabadoobee), who performed first, so we sat in some empty seats lower down just for her set. Her voice is beautiful, a soft blend of pop and rock that confronts these personal, intimate situations in life. She’s an excellent, emotional opener. I can’t wait for her to tour. 

Beabadoobee comes on perfectly on time, with impressive punctuality. The setlist is carefully curated, a well balanced blend of the new and the old, with at least a few songs everyone is sure to know. I’m not as familiar with her newest album, but I’ve been a fan of the old stuff for years, and had plenty to sing along to. 

It was a perfect concert to sing your lungs out and just let go of anything that might be on your mind. Think: the person who just won’t get off your mind, no matter how many months it’s been. 

The crowd is up and dancing and singing and just enjoying themselves to guitar and drums and my best friend and I are singing half the songs to each other because we’ve known them for years. Coffee is very 2020, Glue Song was our anthem in February of eighth grade when it was playing in all the coffee shops, and Sunny day is painfully freshman year. 

Cologne is the last song of the set, and one of my personal favorites.

the way things go is the first of two songs she performs as the encore. I hadn’t looked up the setlist ahead of time, so two of the songs I know like the back of my hand being the ones she’s closing out with felt really special. Beabadoobee asks everyone to put their phones away, to really live in the moment and have a collective couple of minutes where we’re all fully present. Now, I’m sure there were people who kept their phones out, but most people listened. It’s 3 minutes and 7 seconds of pure, genuine connection. We’re singing every word like it was written just for us, a cathartic sort of therapy and I’m getting goosebumps on my head, my arms, my back. 

The awe I felt in that moment was a mixture of this irresistible, familiar music, and the fact that I was experiencing this with thousands of other people. For less than five minutes, I was interlinked with them, united in a mixture of emotions. It’s a song about accepting what cannot be changed, and in that moment, I knew that because everyone else was accepting that, it would be okay if I did too. I can’t properly explain how comforting that felt.

Wait in awe for part IV.