Remembering the Lost Art of Awe and Wonder

Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

As I write this, the brightest light on my horizon is the screen of my Mac. The sun is an hour or more away and the night sky is resplendent with stars. Innumerable points of light dotting the fabric of this Pacific heaven. The Big Island of Hawai’i is dark as well – a few lights can be scene along the coastline and up nearby Mauna Kea – “white mountain” – a dormant volcano peak rising over 13,800 feet above sea level. I can hear the waves gently crashing upon the beach below, but I cannot see them. Above me, the stars beckon and the familiar returns – there ir Orion and his Hare, Taurus the bull, familiar constellations that are still with me even though I’m 3500 miles from home.

Sitting at a beachside cafe the other night, I watched as a little boy, perhaps three years old, ran from his parents’ table to the sand and back again. He was dressed for dinner, a button down shirt with dress shorts, but he was shoeless and ran with reckless abandon in circles upon the beach, repeatedly falling over in the sand. He really didn’t fall so much as bounce – sliding into a pile of sand and effortlessly popping up again without breaking the circle. Back and forth he went for the duration of their time at dinner. His blond hair flopping as he jumped a small sand dune and his little legs moving impossibly fast as his facial expressions moved from determination to laughter in equal parts…all without care or self-reflection.

A bit later, we were standing oceanside as huge manta rays approached a rocky outcropping lit up in the night. A small group of people stood and watched as these rays, with wingspans of 6-8 feet, did summersaults in the water right, their black backs alternating with their white undersides creating the illusion of the creatures changing color before our eyes. Large gills ran along their undersides as they flipped and their mandible looking cephalic fins at the front of their mouths giving them an insect-like appearance – they look like they would be equally comfortable flying in the air as in the water. We watched in wonder, mesmerized by their graceful swimming.

The beginnings of sunrise are appearing to the south of me, hitting the highest points of the mountain – not yet chasing the stars away but reminding me that the day is coming and time must move on. Time seems stopped amid the infinite closeness of the stars and the endless rhythm of the waves below. Do I need to travel thousands of miles from home to experience such soul-pausing moments?

The lightening sky begins to reveal the beach and the waves and the distant horizon, still dark and foreboding. It’s own bit of infinity, in its great expanse, the Pacific Ocean is a mind-boggling wonder. Of course we don’t have to travel to the far reaches of our imagination to experience such wonders but it seems that moving beyond the normal opens our heart to them in new ways.

As I watch the “infinite meadows of heaven” fade in the sunrise, I wonder about those many things passing each day, lost to my eyes in their beautiful ordinary. The green of home is turning through fall, toward the barren brown of winter but each step along that way reveals its own miracles. My grandchildren will be playing under the same sky today, thousands of miles from here and those same stars will tuck them in a few hours earlier than us, as we trail their sunlight in the world’s turning. They will also be running barefoot, not on sand but on the thick green grass of home, kicking up fallen leaves as they run and jump and climb around all the joys of their backyard.

Sunday is a beautiful day of leisure. A time to take a breath and renew the self that is so often lost among the many things that consume our days. It is a day to remember: the gifts, the moments, the people, the little joys, the beauty…all of the glorious details of our existence that frequently get lost behind the urgencies of the moments. This day is for reconnecting to the deeper places that hold lasting joy and remembering what matters most in a world focused on convincing us that other things are more important.

Wherever you find yourself today, stop for a moment and look around. Take a deep breath and listen. Do you hear it? There may be a whisper hiding in that noise, calling you to contemplate the awe and wonder in the world around you – even in its most seemingly mundane aspects. We were all three years old once: light and carefree, brimming with energy and exuberance. If you quiet yourself long enough, you might even dial that sensation in for a moment.