As a note of progress, I want my legacy with my grandkids to be a love of nature like my Dad instilled in me in the short 11 years I had him. Took my 3 year old grandson to a nature preserve recently, referring to it as ‘ the park.’ As we started on a trail through the woods, he kept asking, with mounting frustration, where’s the park?’ I realized he was expecting swings and slides and monkey bars . City parks. It wasn’t long though before feeding fish and turtles in a pond, splashing in a shallow creek, making a magic wand out of a willow, and shoveling pebbles into buckets at the natural playscape made him forget his initial disappointment. We’ve only just begun…
I recently made a drive from my college town to my hometown that I hadn’t made in years. I was struck by how familiar it felt, all these years later. I could recall my 21 year old self like I hadn’t in years.Yet there were differences. Favorite songs I’d be lucky to hear play on the car radio 44 years ago I could now choose to stream. What struck me the most, though, made me sad, almost forlorn. I did not feel within me the same sense of ‘wonder’ that fueled me then. So much of what had yet to unfold those decades ago was now known. Behind me. There are a llot of limits around what lies ahead, and frankly, it just scares me. I don’t want to think about it. I decided then that it’s on me to create some ‘good’ wonder now. Still figuring out what that looks like,
On a recent and much needed vacation, my phone was set aside. I wanted to soak in my time at the beach and my time with my very good friend of 30 years. It felt so freeing--to not allow the outside world (or my family back home) to creep in and keep me from enjoying being out in nature and celebrating friendship. And giving much-needed me time.
It was a wonderful time, and allowing myself to disconnect from things helped me notice the little things more--the children playing in the ocean, the dolphins swimming by, the gorgeous sunsets and sunrises, the soothing sounds of the ocean, seeing birds I'd never seen before (and added to my bird list). I love getting in touch with nature, especially by the ocean. I can't think of a better way to "reclaim your astonishment" than putting that darn phone down and witnessing the beauty that surrounds us.
I am a grandparent. I adore the wonder in my granddaughter's world and embark into it any chance I get. Her parents are overwhelmed with responsibilities of work, paying bills, raising their daughter, and maintaining the best in their own relationship. I know I went through all that myself as a parent. Watching it unfold again is a challenge, especially in this new age of technology. It's a big ache.
You know this wonder, as if the universe put a little piece of it secret in all of us, as life's paradox travels us away for a time, for we were never separate but forever apart of sunrising sunset, love's hue, flowers bloom, smile's warmth to tear a cry, vast longing of heaven expansion creating within thin places of your heart content, dreams oh the dreams that lived our inner child hope to be, for the universe created symphony of stars playing, inner child wonder...
This was such a delightful read :) I never would have thought the opposite of wonder was cynicism, but it's so true. I feel very blessed that I've maintained a sense of wonder in my adult life, partly influenced by my grandfather who used to delight in things like watching chickadees fly into the entrance of his double window in his kitchen to collect seeds he left for them.
I actually try to leave my phone off unless I need to use it, but I likely spend more time on my laptop than I should 🫣 I also occasionally do tech-free, or "analog" days, which are amazing, especially when combined with time in nature. I've not really kept track of my cynicism to wonder ratio but I'd like to think I lean towards wonder. If I find myself slipping towards cynicism, I know I need time in nature. Similar to her Wonder Walk, I also sometimes do a "gratitude walk" and bring to mind everything I have to be grateful for, which I find tremendously uplifting. I really should do that more often, in fact, I think I will do that today ☺️ I also love the idea of keeping a Wonder Journal 💛
Hi to all on a glorious UK spring morning (yes, we do have them sometimes!)
I liked reading this piece of writing - after many disappointments over the years, and one in particular I am struggling with right at this moment, these words reminded me that my sense of awe has indeed diminished. So I like the idea of a Wonder Journal - I've tried with 'gratitude' ones at times, but I think this idea speaks more to me because it is about making an effort to notice. And, anyway, probably awe and gratitude kind of go together hand in hand. I love the idea of fantastical stories too and am reminded that I started trying to write one for children many years ago, so maybe I should try again.
On a 'cynical' note, my house backs onto a country park and a children's playground. As I watch the children playing, I am struck by how many mums and dads simply deposit their children, and then settle down to scroll their phones. One of the most poignant scenes was a father on his phone lazily pushing his daughter on the swing with no interaction whatsoever with her; her little face was the epitome of boredom and frustration. It made me want to weep.
What perfect timing for Lexi’s essay and your sharing it, Susan. I just started the book, “Theo of Golden,” and in the first chapter Theo, having just arrived in Golden, takes a walk and ponders all the wonders he sees in this (fictitious) small town. I’m 74, and absorbing all the wonders around me, even in suburban Atlanta, makes me smile when I take a walk several times a week. This time of year with the magnolias blooming, I inhale deeply through my nose to take in the lemony sweet scent that swirls in the air, thinking, if only I could bottle this. For this old man, I recognize that wonder is all around me and in me, I just need to pause and appreciate it. And by the way, I do ‘stop and smell the roses’ whenever I pass a bush that is blooming. Thank you for this Quiet Life.
I find wonder everyday looking at nature. It’s my go to for keeping sane. I love looking at the trees sway in the breeze. Watching my dog Josie brings me much wonder and awe moments. ☺️
Toward the end of the live-action and animated hybrid movie "The Sheep Detectives," the flock gazed at the sky and beheld their elder, Sebastain, as a stupendous sheep-shaped cloud, with the sun setting in the distance.
Crossing the threshold into talking animals invites me to encounter mystery by listening to something closer to my heart than my mind that surprises or delights me. On an ordinary day, I pause when something out of the ordinary catches my senses. It's easier when I'm already moving at an unrushed pace since daybreak; then I hush myself and give it my full attention, which is the beginning of love. I notice the details as I zoom in, becoming aware of their intricacy and delicacy. I realize their emerging sacredness as I immerse fully in the moment. In this immediacy, I revel in the exquisite gift of wonder with gratitude.
"The Sheep Detectives" is whimsical, witty, emotionally intelligent, and rich in deep wisdom and sheep truths about life and grief. Go and watch the movie showing in theatres now. Don't walk sheepishly - run!
If I’m honest, I’m afraid I’ve become more on the cynical side…especially these last few years. But this article is one of the few things I’ve read that I found very interesting about counter acting cynicism by bringing back wonder and offered several practices/exercises I found very do-able and appealing to try. Thank you Susan and Lexi for this.
I have a friend who writes one haiku a day to remember the one thing that day that impressed her. I have tried it and it works! Recently, I noticed a female bagpiper playing in the park and so I got out of my car and just listened. Here is how I remember it:
As a note of progress, I want my legacy with my grandkids to be a love of nature like my Dad instilled in me in the short 11 years I had him. Took my 3 year old grandson to a nature preserve recently, referring to it as ‘ the park.’ As we started on a trail through the woods, he kept asking, with mounting frustration, where’s the park?’ I realized he was expecting swings and slides and monkey bars . City parks. It wasn’t long though before feeding fish and turtles in a pond, splashing in a shallow creek, making a magic wand out of a willow, and shoveling pebbles into buckets at the natural playscape made him forget his initial disappointment. We’ve only just begun…
I recently made a drive from my college town to my hometown that I hadn’t made in years. I was struck by how familiar it felt, all these years later. I could recall my 21 year old self like I hadn’t in years.Yet there were differences. Favorite songs I’d be lucky to hear play on the car radio 44 years ago I could now choose to stream. What struck me the most, though, made me sad, almost forlorn. I did not feel within me the same sense of ‘wonder’ that fueled me then. So much of what had yet to unfold those decades ago was now known. Behind me. There are a llot of limits around what lies ahead, and frankly, it just scares me. I don’t want to think about it. I decided then that it’s on me to create some ‘good’ wonder now. Still figuring out what that looks like,
On a recent and much needed vacation, my phone was set aside. I wanted to soak in my time at the beach and my time with my very good friend of 30 years. It felt so freeing--to not allow the outside world (or my family back home) to creep in and keep me from enjoying being out in nature and celebrating friendship. And giving much-needed me time.
It was a wonderful time, and allowing myself to disconnect from things helped me notice the little things more--the children playing in the ocean, the dolphins swimming by, the gorgeous sunsets and sunrises, the soothing sounds of the ocean, seeing birds I'd never seen before (and added to my bird list). I love getting in touch with nature, especially by the ocean. I can't think of a better way to "reclaim your astonishment" than putting that darn phone down and witnessing the beauty that surrounds us.
I am a grandparent. I adore the wonder in my granddaughter's world and embark into it any chance I get. Her parents are overwhelmed with responsibilities of work, paying bills, raising their daughter, and maintaining the best in their own relationship. I know I went through all that myself as a parent. Watching it unfold again is a challenge, especially in this new age of technology. It's a big ache.
Time for a phone reset. Looking up and touching nature are the most accessible for me. Including touching my dogs!
You know this wonder, as if the universe put a little piece of it secret in all of us, as life's paradox travels us away for a time, for we were never separate but forever apart of sunrising sunset, love's hue, flowers bloom, smile's warmth to tear a cry, vast longing of heaven expansion creating within thin places of your heart content, dreams oh the dreams that lived our inner child hope to be, for the universe created symphony of stars playing, inner child wonder...
My third time reading your post, as an early childhood educator your words are so true! I tune into Nature everyday,a gift that keeps giving.
This was such a delightful read :) I never would have thought the opposite of wonder was cynicism, but it's so true. I feel very blessed that I've maintained a sense of wonder in my adult life, partly influenced by my grandfather who used to delight in things like watching chickadees fly into the entrance of his double window in his kitchen to collect seeds he left for them.
I actually try to leave my phone off unless I need to use it, but I likely spend more time on my laptop than I should 🫣 I also occasionally do tech-free, or "analog" days, which are amazing, especially when combined with time in nature. I've not really kept track of my cynicism to wonder ratio but I'd like to think I lean towards wonder. If I find myself slipping towards cynicism, I know I need time in nature. Similar to her Wonder Walk, I also sometimes do a "gratitude walk" and bring to mind everything I have to be grateful for, which I find tremendously uplifting. I really should do that more often, in fact, I think I will do that today ☺️ I also love the idea of keeping a Wonder Journal 💛
Hi to all on a glorious UK spring morning (yes, we do have them sometimes!)
I liked reading this piece of writing - after many disappointments over the years, and one in particular I am struggling with right at this moment, these words reminded me that my sense of awe has indeed diminished. So I like the idea of a Wonder Journal - I've tried with 'gratitude' ones at times, but I think this idea speaks more to me because it is about making an effort to notice. And, anyway, probably awe and gratitude kind of go together hand in hand. I love the idea of fantastical stories too and am reminded that I started trying to write one for children many years ago, so maybe I should try again.
On a 'cynical' note, my house backs onto a country park and a children's playground. As I watch the children playing, I am struck by how many mums and dads simply deposit their children, and then settle down to scroll their phones. One of the most poignant scenes was a father on his phone lazily pushing his daughter on the swing with no interaction whatsoever with her; her little face was the epitome of boredom and frustration. It made me want to weep.
Beautiful piece of writing ✍️ thank you 🙏
What perfect timing for Lexi’s essay and your sharing it, Susan. I just started the book, “Theo of Golden,” and in the first chapter Theo, having just arrived in Golden, takes a walk and ponders all the wonders he sees in this (fictitious) small town. I’m 74, and absorbing all the wonders around me, even in suburban Atlanta, makes me smile when I take a walk several times a week. This time of year with the magnolias blooming, I inhale deeply through my nose to take in the lemony sweet scent that swirls in the air, thinking, if only I could bottle this. For this old man, I recognize that wonder is all around me and in me, I just need to pause and appreciate it. And by the way, I do ‘stop and smell the roses’ whenever I pass a bush that is blooming. Thank you for this Quiet Life.
I find wonder everyday looking at nature. It’s my go to for keeping sane. I love looking at the trees sway in the breeze. Watching my dog Josie brings me much wonder and awe moments. ☺️
Toward the end of the live-action and animated hybrid movie "The Sheep Detectives," the flock gazed at the sky and beheld their elder, Sebastain, as a stupendous sheep-shaped cloud, with the sun setting in the distance.
Crossing the threshold into talking animals invites me to encounter mystery by listening to something closer to my heart than my mind that surprises or delights me. On an ordinary day, I pause when something out of the ordinary catches my senses. It's easier when I'm already moving at an unrushed pace since daybreak; then I hush myself and give it my full attention, which is the beginning of love. I notice the details as I zoom in, becoming aware of their intricacy and delicacy. I realize their emerging sacredness as I immerse fully in the moment. In this immediacy, I revel in the exquisite gift of wonder with gratitude.
"The Sheep Detectives" is whimsical, witty, emotionally intelligent, and rich in deep wisdom and sheep truths about life and grief. Go and watch the movie showing in theatres now. Don't walk sheepishly - run!
If I’m honest, I’m afraid I’ve become more on the cynical side…especially these last few years. But this article is one of the few things I’ve read that I found very interesting about counter acting cynicism by bringing back wonder and offered several practices/exercises I found very do-able and appealing to try. Thank you Susan and Lexi for this.
I want to be that child again that listened to albums at a time and held the cover to read the lyrics and
admire the art and wonder how I could do that on the guitar
I have a friend who writes one haiku a day to remember the one thing that day that impressed her. I have tried it and it works! Recently, I noticed a female bagpiper playing in the park and so I got out of my car and just listened. Here is how I remember it:
The sound of the pipes:
Mournful, poignant and stirring.
Lady piper plays.
--James Fly