On wonder

“It is this way with wonder: it takes a bit of patience, and it takes putting yourself in the right place at the right time. It requires that we be curious enough to forgo our small distractions in order to find the world.” -Aimee Nezhukumatathil, World of Wonders

The first week of spring in Saint Louis has not disappointed me; I’ve been walking about in a perpetual state of wonder, soaking up the present state of blooming. The type of naturalist wonder that Nezhukumatathil describes in her book has always been easily accessible to me; my attention will effortlessly catch on things many miss - a hummingbird’s momentary appearance at the window; the tiniest of turtles on the edge of a walking path; the small bloom of a wild orchid on a barren hillside; the raindrops on a fallen leaf on the sidewalk. This is most likely attributable to the particular wiring of my brain, but it’s also a practice I’ve continued to cultivate, and I love to share with others. (I’m the aunt who loves to narrate the world as I walk with the littles in my life - “Look! See! Hear! Touch!”)

Even if it doesn’t come easily to you - know that this zooming in to marvel and savor is an exercise you can hone, just like any other habit. Just like the antidote to despair is action, the balm for boredom is wonder. Maybe for you it’s observing the pleasure of connecting with a ball while swinging a bat or a golf club. Perhaps it’s taking your kids berry picking and enjoying a perfectly ripe raspberry slightly warm from the sun. Maybe it’s leveling up your appreciation of that cup of coffee when you realize how many thousands of miles the beans travelled before arriving in your cup.

A poet Yrsa-Daley Ward recently said “attention is an act of resistance” in a world that wants us to skim over and half digest our experiences.

As we close out March, what’s a way you can cultivate wonder?

Be well, beautiful people.