In Search of Wonder
We have lost our sense of wonder.
Correction.
We have misplaced our sense of wonder.
This morning, while gulping coffee down after oversleeping day two and forcing myself to write via my morning pages after not having a single word drip out yesterday, I started writing about my great-nephew.
Yesterday, exhausted and already in my pajamas before 6 p.m., there was a knock on my front door. My brother-in-law had my great nephew (“E”) who was knocking on the glass while yelling “Aunt Birdie! Aunt Birdie!” He wanted to see me, but more, my creek, and even more than that - the water in my creek, which is sadly, currently bone dry. We walked around the cottage and then outside the cottage with him chattering up a storm until his grandfather scooped him up to walk back to their house for dinner. I settled back down in my favorite chair to eat my dinner, which was now a little cold, but it was leftovers, and I was too tired to care.
Less than an hour later, engrossed in a book, there is a knock on the door, and this time it is my sister with E, who was once again hollering for his Aunt Birdie, which I suddenly noticed was really just “Birdie! Birdie!” I open the door, and he walks right in like he owns the place with that John Wayne Walk toddlers have when they first learn to walk, all stiff and bowlegged. He is chattering the ENTIRE time. “What are you doing, Birdie?” Peering around every corner and in every space not waiting for my response as he is making a bee line to the cookie jar (he knows I keep a cookie jar (it was my Ma Ma’s) full of Nutter Butter cookies for him) and talking about the big fans (he is obsessed with my giant ceiling fans). The entire time, walking (slightly waddling) around the cottage, looking at everything like he wasn’t just there doing the same thing an hour ago. LOL
He has a small monster truck in each hand which he proceeds to stuff one in the crick of his arm so he has a free hand to reach into the cookie jar, but then he hands the cookie to me (to hold) after the first bite so he has his hands free again for both trucks.
We sit down in my living room which has a large wooden coffee table so he can zoom zoom his trucks, but he sits those down and picks up one of my rocks and says to me, “Heart!” and then proceeds to pick up nearly all of them one-by-one telling me what they are - “Heart Rock” each time. I have a large wooden dough bowl full of heart rocks I've found. I empty it each year and start over, so it's currently not full, but there are about twenty or so in there of all sizes. He knows the difference, too, as he lifted one and just announced it as a “Rock!” and it was indeed not shaped like a heart. Sis and I had to laugh.
They didn’t stay long, and as they walked down the path headed back to Sis’ house, he was still chattering about this and that with an “I love you Birdie!” mixed in before crossing over the bridge and being completely zoned in on where he was headed next. I swear, sometimes he reminds me of Winnie the Pooh, the way he locks in on something, but then when he moves on, he moves on and locks in on the next thing. Toddlers are terrific to observe.
Which is what I found myself writing about this morning. Toddlers and wonder.
The last two weeks, I have lost my wonder, and it shows.
There is this fantastic book, “The Six Types of Working Genius” by Patrick Lencioni, that I read on my sabbatical. It is fascinating and helped me take a fresh look at how I had been working up to that point, and how I needed to work going forward. There is a $25 exam, and I cannot recommend it more. Worth every penny.
One of my top two was “Wonder.”
I’m not going to deep dive into it here, but it was no surprise to me when that word fell onto the page while I wrote this morning. In watching E toddle around, even for a few minutes yesterday, something in me recognized my wonder was missing as I was amused by his. Even more, his wonder was directed at things I had taught him, which are few, or things associated distinctly with “Birdie’s.”
And this morning it has me thinking…
I don’t do well when I don’t have something to look forward to, or dream about, or build towards.
There it is.
I think that is why finishing up the book is so hard. It is keeping me trapped in the past, and everything in me is resisting it. I will have to reframe the process somehow to get past that.
It isn’t just the book, though, and it isn’t just me.
Look around.
The whole world is stuck. Where is the wonder in any of us? Where are the dreamers and the builders?
I’m just going to say this - a lot of what I have spent the past dozen-plus years working on/for is at risk. It has always been at risk because that is what happens when you choose to be first at something, or build something new or untested. What is happening now, though, is more - and it is rooted in fear, ignorance, power, and several other things that have a straight or dotted line to those three. It’s easy to slip into, “What is even the point?” Maybe even worse, “What was the point?”
On top of that, probably the most joyful part of my life is in a holding pattern with no ETA, and the longer it goes, the more difficult it is to hold onto hope.
There is no dwelling on these things, but they must be acknowledged to understand why some days it is difficult for me to find my joy, my wonder.
It is also a reminder that I need to ensure I am being intentional about building joy and wonder into those areas. Dwelling upon and planning for when things will be better is a great way to give your hope muscle a workout.
I also need to find safe spaces to talk about what weighs on me. It’s incredible how just sharing our burdens with a safe person opens a release valve in our bodies.
Finally, it is good to seek out joy and wonder in others…in this world. Send the meme or funny video. Make the time to watch a toddler explore the world. Read a book for fun - as a friend of mine said this week, we can’t read work material or news only. Great point. I picked up The Paris Wife this week. I don’t want to confess how long it has been sitting on my shelf waiting for me…
The world is on fire. No doubt.
Each of us has a responsibility to snuff out the fire as we come across it around us.
Speaking of which…
A friend of mine saw a fire on the sidewalk as they drove home. As in a flame, a few inches in diameter, in the middle of nowhere on a sidewalk. What in the actual world?! They stopped, took a bottle of water, and put it out before going on their way. No fanfare.
Hammer. Nail. Bam. Done.
Joy works much the same way.
This weekend, I am opting to find ways to inject more joy into each day.
Sending you buckets of love,
Heather
//
EDITED - Author’s Note: I started this earlier in the week, but time got away from me. So, as I sit in my breakfast nook this Saturday morning after finishing a big brunch I made for myself, I thought I would finish it. On my phone. So, no audio until next week when I get back to my computer. Audio added 7.14.2025.
…and…
So, you know I am practicing what I preach, just this morning I have done the following:
Slept in, aka Heather’s Slow Roll ;)
Shana Coffee - #IYKYK
Finalized plans with friends for a comedy show girls’ night in September in LR.
Planned a two-day solo trip to Nashville to attend a writer’s book tour event and visit one of my favorite bookstores.
Cooked up a big brunch and savored it while listening to the birds and looking at the flowers outside the window.
Deep cleaned my kitchen. Trust me. It brought me joy. LOL
Watched and sent funny videos to friends.
Listened to music that I love.
…and it isn’t even 2 p.m.
Plus, my Sis and BIL found a hole in the wall cafe a half hour from us that we are going to try during the blue hair hour tonight (seems it is some best kept secret and fills up fast). To know me is to know I love food…new places that involve food…and the more ‘hole in the wall’ the better it is - the more likely I am going to love it, and the food will be delicious. Also, I have found this to be one hundred percent accurate in every country I have ever visited.
This is a beautiful reminder to wonder !! Gosh I love your writings !!!