Slugs, Heartbreak, and Earthquakes:

Finding Awe in Unexpected Places

Lately, I've been reflecting a lot on heartbreak—partly because I’m going through it myself and partly because I see it all around me. In the process, my attention has been drawn to things I might have missed before. It feels like the universe has been sending me signals, like the recent We Can Do Hard Things podcast episode with Florence Williams. Williams, an award-winning science journalist, delves into the science of heartbreak in her book Heartbreak: A Personal and Scientific Journey, using her own experience of losing a 25-year marriage as a lens to explore this intense emotion.

Through interviews with neuroscientists, psychologists, and survivors of heartbreak, Williams examines the physiological and psychological toll of profound loss. She uncovers how emotional pain manifests in the body and explores the science of healing. While I’m deeply familiar with the pain of heartbreak, it was eye-opening to see it discussed through both personal experience and scientific inquiry.

Heartbreak, as anyone who’s been through it knows, is no walk in the park. My own recent experience has left me feeling physically drained—almost like I’m on Ozempic—nauseous and lacking appetite. Although time is said to heal most wounds, when you’re in the thick of it, it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. You can try a lot of things—vent to friends, smash pillows, go for a run, or eat a tub of ice cream while watching romantic comedies. Some things work, and some don’t. But what Williams found, after talking to scientists, is that there’s something more helpful than venting or wallowing: the experience of awe. Research shows that people who are capable of experiencing awe tend to recover more quickly from heartbreak. She also underscores the importance of social connections in healing.

Let me linger on awe for a moment. While listening to another interview with Williams, I received a notification from my Substack about a comment on a note I had posted. In that note, I wrote about a fright during a recent earthquake in Lisbon and the unexpected outcome of running out of the house¹. I wasn’t familiar with the profile of the person who commented that she was glad to know I was safe. Curious, I clicked on her profile and continued to her Substack page, which featured a post with a picture of a slug. Now, I’m not particularly into slugs, so my immediate reaction wasn’t one of excitement, but there was something about the photo of a banana slug (who knew there was such a thing?) that made me curious. A couple of clicks later, I found myself reading

Holly Starley

’s post about observing a slug and learning who you are, inspired by Ross Gay’s The Book of Delights, a book I absolutely loved.

Because heartbreak, like other stressful situations, can make it difficult to concentrate, I decided to listen to the voice-over while reading the post to focus better. As I read and listened to her words—complete with an improvised introduction and postscript—I found myself smiling and feeling a deep sense of connection with someone I had never met. I was in awe of the beauty of her writing, and I thought about how lucky we are to be able to connect in this way.

Here are some other things that have inspired awe or provided me with delight over the last few days and weeks: singing along (out of tune) to all the songs while watching The Complete Unknown; attending

Lindsay Johnstone

’s course Memoir in a Month; watching the boats on the River Tagus here in Lisbon; admiring the new Marimekko crockery collection; hugging trees in the park; and therapeutic dancing in my biodanza classes. These small moments remind me of the richness in life that can often be overlooked, even in times of sorrow.

Awe inspiring setting of the Tejo riverside in Lisbon (Photo: Liza Debevec)

In Bittersweet,

Susan Cain

explores how sorrow can make us more attuned to beauty and connection, deepening our capacity to experience joy. She writes that bittersweetness can be an invitation to live more fully, to embrace pain alongside joy. I was excited to see Cain quote a Portuguese poet, Valter Hugo Mãe, who says: “É urgente viver encantado. O encanto é a única cura possível para a inevitável tristeza².” Connecting bittersweetness to a quote from a Portuguese author makes total sense, given that Portuguese culture is deeply associated with saudade—a wistful, nostalgic longing.

To experience this bittersweet sensation, you could listen to some Portuguese Fado singing by artists such as the late Amália Rodrigues. Or, if—like me—you are a fan of Wim Wenders, you may find a perfect blend of awe and nostalgia in this beautiful song by Madredeus, featured in his film Lisbon Story.

Circling back to making connections, let me briefly address the vital role of human connection in moments of heartbreak and tragedy—both as a way of preventing disaster and as a means of healing. The seismologist Lucy Jones says that in an earthquake, people are more important than kits. In her recent post on the tragic fires in California,

Elise Loehnen

wrote about the importance of getting to know your neighbors. Making and maintaining friendships during or despite tragedy is essential. I’ve been lucky to have a wonderful support system around me, both in my everyday life and here on Substack. While my friends in real life have lent me their ears as I lament my heartbreak, many people I’ve never met in person have reached out here on Substack—commenting on my earthquake experience and expressing their relief that I came through it unharmed.

How (not) to make neighbourly connections (Photo: Liza Debevec)

So, as I continue navigating the treacherous waters of heartbreak, I am grateful to live in a world that, despite all the tragedies and disasters, offers daily opportunities for experiencing awe, delight, and connection.

I’m curious to know how you’ve been nurturing awe and connection in your life, both on and off Substack. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments!

And if you’re interested in experiencing more delight and connection here, you may wish to check out my new publication, Scattered Crumbs and Tangled Tales: An Anthropologist’s Fieldnotes from Everyday Life in Europe and Africa. Through this publication, I intend to share real-life encounters—sometimes profound, sometimes perplexing—that have influenced my perspective while living and working across Europe and Africa. Expect reflections on the meaning behind meals, the complexities of cultural identity, unexpected adventures, and much more. You can find the introductory post here.

1. You should not run outside during an earthquake. Here is some excellent advice on what to do.

2. It is urgent to live enchanted. Enchantment is the only possible cure for inevitable sadness (my translation).