I wrote my original “wonder” post last night and this morning; it's the first thing that came to my mind when I read the prompt. As I've been thinking about it more (so cool when something stays with you this long!) I found myself using the word over and over today, and at some points, it ended up being a pretty dark part of “wonder”
(If you haven't read my original post for this prompt, please do that real quick before reading this one; that one is more like “me” and this one is a departure for me…)
For Max, and when I look at Max, wonder = magic. The world is full of it. Amazing moving pictures on the television, he stares at in, yes, wonder. Biting into a piece of chocolate for the first time, as he truly *tastes* it, it spreads across his face the, say it with me, wonder.
As a slightly more jaded adult, one with fears (Max's only fears are of monsters and green beans) and responsibilites, the way I tend to wonder is altogether different.
I wonder if Jamie and I are going to do a good enough job of raising this boy. I wonder what to make for dinner. I wonder if my kidney is going to last longer, this time around. I wonder if I can find a better price on the new dishwasher motor we need. I wonder if our paychecks will be enough to cover all of the bills this month. I wonder if Jamie is too tired to drive home from his friend's house, where he's hanging out as I write this. I wonder what to get my in-laws for Christmas.
I think the concern for me now, for most of us “grown-up” types, isn't a lack of cultivating wonder… it's about cultivating the right kind.