Wonder [Author: aduellist]

**Viking Prince** · June 18, 2009, 10:01 PM

Author: aduellist

Wonder

Wonder

I sat down to write something serious, something profound. To construct a thing of crystalline clarity, points lined up just so, arguments marshaled like battalions and regiments on some long ago Napoleonic field of conflict. A thing that, once set in motion, would be an irresistible force of reason, sweeping all before it and leading the reader to a conclusion worthy of the term.

I could not write it. I could not string clauses and sentences together like so many pearls. I could not even navigate my train of thought through the switching yard of my mind.

You see, those kids are bothering me.

You know the ones I mean. They are a gaggle of young boys, seemingly between the ages of eight and ten. They run around in the parking lot outside my building. They tramp up and down the stairs. They gallop along the corridor outside my apartment door. They yell, they scream, they taunt, and sometimes they fight. They create an enormous din and leave behind a lingering wake of chaos.

They are engrossed in a game whose rules only they can understand. Because they just now made them up. They unknowingly follow Shakespeare’s instruction to “suit the word to the action, the action to the word” while blissfully and equally unknowingly ignoring his admonition to “o’erstep not the bounds of nature”. They recognize no such bounds. This private world is theirs alone, a thing of whole cloth and wonder, a fragile and ephemeral construct that constantly changes. It never has been before and never will be again as it is at this precise moment.

Today’s game may at first resemble yesterday’s, but it is not the same. Tomorrow’s game will be different still. While I see a parking lot full of cars, today they see a land inhabited by Sleeping Monsters That Must NOT Be Awakened. Rules are there, but may change or be discarded on a whim.

“You touched a monster. Now you’re gonna die!”

“No!!! This one’s not a monster. It’s our space ship and we’re gonna escape!”

“But we can’t get in, it’s locked!”

“I know. We lost the key! We gotta find it before the invisible monsters get us!”

“An invisible monster got me!! Now I’m a zombie monster and I’m gonna eat you!”

“You can’t. The space ship has a force field that keeps monsters and zombies away. As long as I’m touching it, you can’t get me!”

“Yeah, but you can only touch it for, like, ten seconds or you’ll start to melt!”

“We gotta find the key!”

“GRRRROOWWWLLLL!!!”

“AAAAAHHHH!!!”

And they’re off in a completely new direction.

That hedge was a castle wall, is a boy-eating plant creature, will be the magical border of the realm. They operate in an elastic, elongated now. Cause and effect do not necessarily apply. What went before does not per force have a bearing on what’s going on now, which may or may not have an impact on what happens next. Their collective pocket reality changes to meet current needs and desires. Imagination is not to be contained in or restricted by what is. They have an innate sense of wonder, of possibility.

Somewhere along the line we grow out of this, or it grows out of us. We become absorbed in the details and minutiae of our daily lives. We become concerned with getting grades, asking a girl out, getting into university, making the rent, getting to work on time. Get the raise, the promotion, buy a new car/house/computer/TV, get married, raise a family. We mull over what was and worry about what will be. We seldom dwell in now. We focus less on what is possible and more on what is impossible. In short, we become “adults”.

Even our play becomes more structured, more restricted. We sit at our computers or consoles and play in worlds with rules created by someone else. Oh, we may fiddle with parameters, poke at code, design new models and the like. But the Rules are still there, Rules we didn’t write and cannot fundamentally change. We are confined, circumscribed, diminished.

The day comes when one realizes that more of life is behind than is ahead. We feel our days getting shorter, time slipping away. Where a week used to seem like a year, a year now seems like a week. We lose sight of wonder and possibility in our lives.

G. K. Chesterton wrote:

“Contemporary society has become dry, not for lack of wonders but for lack of wonder.”

We stop seeing the wonder in a blossoming cherry tree, the bustling activity around an ant hill, the power and majesty of a passing thunder storm, the cathedral hush of a slow snowfall, the awe as a baby discovers it has hands and feet, although it does not yet know what hands and feet are or what they are for. The blossoms mean pollen, allergies, the need to wash the car more often. If we notice the ants at all, we usually think of sprays, traps or exterminators. The thunderstorm brings visions of power loss, floods, and spikes that may damage or destroy our electronics. The snow signifies potential school cancellations, transportation difficulties, shoveling and accidents. The baby creates worries about child care, education and expenses.

We no longer look for pictures in the clouds, gaze out at the stars, or listen to birdsong. Often we do not really see or hear each other. We fail to appreciate the wonder in a single smile, or the possibility in our daily activities and interactions. We lose sight of our ability to shape our lives in ways that are more pleasing and satisfying to ourselves and those closest to us. Perhaps we cannot change the world, but we can change our individual worlds. Or, more accurately, we can change the way we look at our individual worlds.

The dog is not an irritant, something that must be walked. It is a constant companion providing unconditional affection. The laundry is not a chore, but an opportunity to contemplate the ingenuity and inventiveness of the appliances we use to do it. The line at the theater is not simply a collection of objects in our way. It is a smorgasbord of individuals with their own concerns, interests, outlooks and opinions. If we are simply willing to pay attention to what surrounds us on a daily basis, to actually look and listen, we become aware of a dazzling array of wonder and possibility.

And, at last, I understand. I know why those kids distract me so, why I feel compelled to stop, to listen, to watch.

At 53 years of age, I want to be one of them. I want to look around me and see the wonder in what is and the possibility of what could be. I am going to try.

**chamaeleo** · June 23, 2009, 05:49 PM

Outstanding reflection, not everyone here might relate now but if they're lucky...someday it'll hit em like a golf ball dropped from a very high cliff. Very well written too. Time for me to go poke at some ants...