1 min read
14 May
14May

May 14, 2024

Other than the words to the iconic song, "Stairway to Heaven," a lot of things make me wonder. "If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed, no. It's just a spring clean for the May Queen." Um…what? If you know what any of these lyrics mean, please - by all means - share with me!

But that's not the "wonder" I'm talking about here. I mean WONDER - the all-caps kind that you feel when worldly meets otherworldly - when you encounter things that make you feel a way you can't describe. And if a particular experience doesn't come immediately to mind, you may have temporarily lost your sense of wonder. And I say "temporarily" because I believe that in all of us, it's there somewhere and was never meant to lie dormant.

I know a man who is a motorcycle enthusiast. He owns multiple premier bikes, has traveled extensively here and abroad on two wheels, and is certainly not known for being overly emotional or expressive. I'll never forget looking at photos of one of his trips out west as he described them to me. At one particularly stunning vista, he stopped, shook his head as if feeling it all over again, pointed to a spot in the photo, and showed visible emotion as he told me, "I stood on the edge of that canyon and said, 'Oh. My. God.' And for the first time in my life, I meant it."

THAT is wonder.

And when we let life hammer it out of us, we lose. Too often, maybe to appear "sophisticated," or perhaps because we're just tired, we allow our natural wonder instincts to be pushed aside and seen as childlike. But if you're hard to impress, I contend that you are also missing out on some of life's greatest moments.

We're all tired, overwhelmed, and hurt to some degree. But no amount of unmet expectations can change how the sun looks when it rises each day. No amount of jadedness makes the Northern Lights any less spectacular. And no level of weariness can dilute the beautiful sound of a baby's first earthside cry.

It's only our perspective that changes.

Wide-eyed wonder isn't just for children on Christmas morning. It's for everyone - every day. Our lives are better when we exchange our sophisticated cynicism for a childlike openness that allows our minds to see the extraordinary in the seemingly ordinary. And there's nothing unsophisticated about that.

I am awestruck by the marvelous, but I also marvel at the ordinary. I want to make the most of these finite and fast-moving trips around the sun, and because I know I'm not promised my next breath, I look for the beauty, the amazement, and the absolute thrill in everyday things, too. And that's exactly what I find. Love and wonder are like ocean waves in my life - they knock me off my feet regularly.

This was true 40 years ago when the all-consuming thought of life with Tom Glaser took up every inch of real estate in my heart and head. It was true 38 years ago when I heard the steady beat of a tiny heart pulsing in my womb for the very first time, and it's true when I wake up each day, sip my coffee, and look out my back windows, too.

No matter how ordinary you may feel, you’re not. And no matter what lens you choose to see the world through, it never stops being extraordinary. So, how will you see it?

I wonder.

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