“700 light years away … a dying star is building a nebula.”
Some people think wonder is the province of children. Some believe, as we get older, we get used to, even blasé about our world. I disagree. Some may get blasé, but many do not.
I don’t stumble upon moments of wonder as often as I may have as a child, but I still come upon them. For instance, coming upon the link to the image of a dying star building a nebula. I experienced it then, though perhaps in a milder form because I was aware such things occur. (The quote at the top is from the tweet I saw that led me to the page about the nebula.)
Like most people, when I experience wonder I use words like, “Cool!” or “Awesome!” Those are words that I, as a writer, dislike because they are so over-used they are clichés that say nothing.
But then I realize that most of us simply don’t have the language to express what we feel when we experience wonder. Inadequate as they are, we use those clichés because we want to express something, anything.
Seth Godin talks about being remarkable. Now look at the definition of wonder. It will read something like this: the quality of being remarkable; the feeling of encountering something remarkable.
Without the ability to experience wonder, you can neither appreciate nor, more importantly, be remarkable. The word remarkable is built from a verb, to remark, which is a response. Remarkable means a response to wonder.
The first instance of wonder that I can recall was when I first understood I could read. I learned phonetically. I was sounding out letters — consonants and vowels. Then I was putting them together. One day, I sounded out a word. I remember the word too. It was cat. There was moment when I strung the letters’ sounds together and realized it was the word “cat.”
It was like a light suddenly filling a room or a cool gust of wind sweeping in through a window. In an instant, I realized I could read. It was a moment of wonder. After that, I began reading everything I could find. Later, I began writing so others could read what I had to say.
The ability to experience wonder is a gift and something I hope I never lose. We’re all different, so different things may prompt that feeling. For me, it’s often when I come across the amazing phenomena the universe affords, like a dying star building a nebula. It’s not just visually arresting; the idea of it is too. It is something old that is simultaneously dying and giving birth.
And we can see it! Technology allows us to do that! Pardon the pun, but it makes me feel wonderful to know I still experience wonder.
What is the point of even talking about nebulae, learning to reading and wonder? It is simply this: creativity is many things and can be described in many ways. This is one of them:
Creativity is a response to wonder.
In other words, creativity is remarkable.
If you can’t feel wonder, you can’t be creative, or so I believe. Wonder reminds us that anything is possible. If you can imagine it, it can be.
So what was the last thing that made you experience wonder? What was your first experience of it?
Do you think wonder fuels creativity?
(Image Credit & Copyright: Ed Henry – Hay Creek Observatory)
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I really like this piece, Bill. One thought that occurred to me, though: is it equally possible that the remarkable causes a sense of wonder?
Yes, I think so. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it makes sense.
Bill Wren recently posted..Pairs- sequences and storytelling
Last time I felt wonder? Gasping at the marvel that is the Taj Mahal at sunset, a couple of weeks ago. My eyes couldn’t get enough, and it made me feel loved, even though its construction had nothing to do with me.
First time? Probably listening to music.
Mmm, yes. Music can do that. It’s given me that sense a few times.
Bill Wren recently posted..Pairs- sequences and storytelling