Never Lose Your Childish Sense of Wonder
There’s something magical, wild, and powerful about the way children interact with the world around them.
They run through sprinklers, pick up rocks to search for creepy crawlies, ask old people how trees grow, and view every snowfall as a chance to resurrect last year’s snowman.
Children notice things that we (adults) don’t see. They gawk at things we deem ordinary and explainable.
I’ve begun to wonder…why don’t we do that? What prevents us from basking in the beauty around us?
The standard answer to that question is that, as adults, we have more on our minds. We have to worry about bills, stressful bosses, tense family relationships, yardwork, and honey-do lists.
I feel the weight of those concerns as much as the next person. But should those worries really prevent us from enjoying what is around us?
About five years ago, I decided there must be a better way. I decided that one of my life rules would be “Never lose your childish sense of wonder.”
Every day, I make the choice to embrace joy, wonder, and childishness. I sing silly songs around the house. I tell my wife bedtime stories about the secret lives of our cats. (Don’t tell anyone I do that.) I take walks around the neighborhood and notice the beautiful trees, goofy facial expressions on babies, and whimsical signs in people’s front yards (like the one depicted below).
Each of us gets to choose how we perceive the world. We can view it through the lens of apathy and disengagement, or we can view it through the curious eyes of a child. We can approach each experience as “something we’ve seen before” or as something fresh and worthy of wonder.
There’s something magical, wild, and powerful about the way children interact with the world around them.
When was the last time you gawked at the brilliant colors of fall leaves?
Stopped to watch two squirrels chase each other in your backyard?
Refused to use an umbrella so you could feel droplets splashing on your face?
Let your jaw drop while watching a magic trick?
Got down on your hands on the sidewalk to watch a string of marching ants?
Isn’t it time to start appreciating those things again?
