We spend so much of our lives reaching, for the next goal, the next answer, the next phase. But every so often, something whispers to us: stop here. Look around. This is enough.
That whisper? That’s wonder!
It arrives not with fanfare, but with the scent of lavender on the breeze. The hush of morning fog. The sudden flutter of wings. The warmth of a hand wrapped around yours. Wonder doesn’t ask us to change. It just asks us to notice.
The Miraculous Ordinary
Some days I hike the same trail I’ve walked a thousand times, Indian Rock Trail in Sanborn Skyline Park. And yet, each time I see something new. A red leaf curled just so. A line of ants marching with conviction. A shaft of sunlight falling on bark like gold dust.
This is the wonder of the everyday. It’s not rare. It’s not dramatic. It’s constant. The miracle isn’t that wonder appears, but that we so often forget to look.
Gratitude, I’ve come to believe, is the way back.
A Practice of Attention
Poet Mary Oliver gave the clearest instructions I’ve ever read for living a meaningful life:
“Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”
Those three steps can turn even the most ordinary morning into a sacred experience.
Gratitude helps us pay attention. It slows our racing thoughts and reminds us that this moment – this one – is enough.
It opens our eyes to the beauty that’s always been there.
Wonder as a Healing Force
In a world that often feels heavy, wonder is a balm. It doesn’t fix everything. But it helps us endure. It helps us soften. It helps us feel connected to something larger, something beautiful, something worth trusting.
Wonder gives us an opening – a new lens to peer through.
Wonder doesn’t need a reason. It just needs our presence.
And presence is an act of love — for ourselves, for this life, for whatever lies just beyond the edge of our understanding.
A Month of Gratitude
As August winds down, I look back on this month’s reflections – the memories, the companions, the laughter, the quiet. And I feel grateful for it all.
Not just the big moments, but the tiny ones. The ones that didn’t make headlines or fill journals, but filled my soul instead.
- A dog trotting ahead on a dusty trail
- The feeling of the sun on my face
- A kind word at just the right moment
- A bench that says “Happy Trails” and means it
These are the things I want to remember.
These are the things that carry me forward.
These are the things that help my light shine.
Tell About It
So today, I say thank you. For the clouds. For the breeze. For the miracle of a beating heart and a curious mind.
I am grateful for everyday wonder, and for the invitation to notice it.
And I promise, in my way, to tell about it.