Somewhere along life’s journey, wonder quiets.
What once filled our tiny bodies, consumed our minds, and drove our nonstop actions, settles. I didn’t notice how quiet my wonder had gotten until I became a mother, a role that has reignited the spark of wonder in my life.
And now, I spend most of my time with a toddler, who is often fully consumed by wonder.
Along the way, I think my wonder got overridden by adulthood: schedules, bills, work, taking care of a house and all the other things we don’t think of when we passionately plead for time to quicken so we can be adults. However, it’s essential to remember to prioritize moments of curiosity, so that the wonder within us doesn’t settle.
I feel the tension as I want to take us to a park, but my son sees a squirrel down the street. Or I’m trying to carry groceries inside, but my son hears an airplane. Or it’s time to get ready for bed, but my son is in the middle of his make-believe game. It’s a constant juggle, trying to balance the demands of adulthood with the need to nurture wonder in my son and myself.
Sometimes, more often than I’d like, my adulthood priorities win, and I encourage my son to listen. But lately, I’ve been trying to deconstruct these barriers to my own wonder. It’s not easy. I’ve placed a lot of importance on my hierarchy of priorities, but slowly, I’m feeling my wonder shake the dust off, begin to stretch out, and work its way back up to the top influencer of my actions. I’ve found that simple practices, such as mindfulness meditation, taking regular nature walks and engaging in creative activities have been instrumental in this journey.
That’s the beautiful thing about wonder. It may be quiet, but it never goes away. And with a bit of prodding, you can rediscover the joy of stopping to watch a rolly polly dwaddle along the sidewalk, bending down to feel the pedals on a flower blooming, closing your eyes to listen to the birdsong, pausing to find shapes in the clouds, picking up a rock to look for fossils, and so, so many other utterly spectacular things we often don’t even have awareness are happening right in front of us.
“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”
Isaiah 55:12
Warmly,
Kylie Larson, MA, LPC
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