When was the last time you felt a Sense of Wonder?
When I think of wonder, I recall childhood memories of sitting in the garden on a gorgeous summer day and looking at flowers and the perfect sky or chasing butterflies in a field near my home. I think of carefree days in my 20s before I had a home, husband, or pup to care for, where I would aimlessly wander through Seattle taking in incredible views, literally stopping to smell the flowers at Pike Place Market, and sitting at a small park enjoying the noise of life surrounding me. There were so many times like these in my earlier life when I would have no schedule and no expectation of time or accomplishment. I would simply set out to take in whatever was in front of me.
I was flooded with these memories today as I found myself at the beach walking my dog, Timon. I had a rare Friday off work and I waited all week to go to the boardwalk and walk. We got down there, we set off, and less than 10 minutes in Timon was losing his mind at the waves so I let him explore. He was completely bowled over by a big wave. And so, with a wet, sandy, shivering pup, our walk was over almost as soon as it began. And I was frustrated and anxious. I was thinking of all the times I’ve tried to get together with friends who have small children to do something ‘fun’ and the adventures ended before they started because of the children’s needs. Now, in no way do I think parenting a pup is the same as children. However, at this moment I felt this kindred spirit of frustration, deflation, and maybe even failure.
This adventure was for me. But it wasn’t. At some point as I’ve gotten older, I’ve let go of prioritizing my sense of wonder. I wake up with a to-do list of tasks that need to be accomplished. If I do something for myself, I almost always include other people or Timon. I can’t remember the last time I went for a walk by myself. Without a friend. Without my pup. I can’t remember the last time I set off to aimlessly wander a city or let a day unfold – or if I did, I felt this sense of pressure that time was somehow running out. My loving husband often points out that I hold an imaginary timeline in my head that no one else knows about. Where did this timeline come from? When did this pressure get so heavy? When did I lose my sense of wonder? Can I get it back?
Despite this impending sense of doom and anxious line of questioning arising in my mind, I am hopeful. I feel this awareness that in my effort to consolidate my to-do list, I’ve lost the parts that were in there just for me. I’m recognizing that those are the non-negotiable, absolutely necessary spaces to just be me. To allow myself the freedom of adventure and the sense of wonder about everyday miracles like the sun shining, the waves crashing, and the birds singing. Bathing myself in the present moment without all the burdens (and blessings) of my adult life is how I connect to that inner child. The little one that holds my sense of wonder and curiosity. The one that does things that don’t make logical (adult) sense because they simply feel good.
Connecting with my sense of wonder is like pulling up to the gas pump or battery station and refueling or recharging. So, I’m committing to setting aside some time for solo adventures of wonder. And I hope you do, too!
Here are five practices to help you connect to your sense of wonder:
Go for a slow-paced walk without headphones or conversation and notice the sounds and sights around you.
Wander around a farmers market or street fair. Notice what attracts your attention. Notice how you feel.
Sit in a city park or on the boardwalk. Take in all the sights and sounds of both nature and people. Let yourself feel the energy of the space.
Find a view. Go for a hike and pause for a few moments when you find an awesome view. Take in everything you see, hear, and feel. Or, if you are on a beautiful drive, pull over and do the same when you come to a neat (and safe) lookout point.
Sit by a fire. My favorite is to have a daytime campfire, but any campfire or fireplace will do. Let yourself feel the warmth, take in the gorgeous oranges, and simply meditate on the wonder of fire.
