IN HOT WATER – As If For the First Time

(This is another in my series of reflections, As If For the First Time, describing the most commonplace of experiences through a fresh lens, one of innocence and wonder.)
 
A shower feels good any time of year. But in the winter—especially when it's a snow-sprinkling ten degrees outside as it is right now—sometimes a good hot shower's the only way you can reach that chill that's penetrated to your core.

This morning I'm taking one of those showers.

By the time I'm "cooked"...the water's much hotter than it was at first, when I couldn't stand it.

I let the water run until the glass steams up. How relative the heat is. When I first step in, I have to quickly turn the handle down to avoid burning myself. But in no time it feels tepid; I turn it up. By the time I'm "cooked," I've done so several times, to the point where the water's now much hotter than it was at first when I couldn't stand it. Now my skin's turning red—brightest on top of my shoulders, with definite streaks where the nearly scalding rivulets run down my chest.

I play with the tickling jets of water, testing the effect of each on a pruning fingertip. Of the hundred or so strands the shower head dispenses, no two are alike. Some are focused and fierce, biting into my skin; others I can barely feel. Some subdivide their meager share into still finer spray; a few barely drip, choked off by years of lime deposits.

I turn around to face the beneficent bombardment. As it drives heat into my chest, I feel my back cooling. I experiment, and finally perfect a sort of "rotisserie" movement, gradually turning my body while rocking slowly back and forth. That's more like it.

The meditation's put me in touch with something very basic, very pure. A celebration. I am deeply warmed in body and soul. 

After a while, I realize I've indeed lost track of time—in fact, of every thought. The meditation's put me in touch with something very basic, very pure. A celebration. I am deeply warmed in body and soul.

I turn off the water and reach for my towel. The shower head gurgles as it drains. Each drop clips the gray rubber edge of the shower squeegee hanging from the shower caddy and deflects out at my chest. They're cool, but it feels good.

TYLER'S TOUCH – A Child's Peaceful Presence

Last month, my wife and I attended a wonderful Christmas concert at a local church. It was nearly two hours of music, ranging from choral to hand bells to orchestral; from traditional Christmas fare to some gorgeous pieces we'd never heard.

Since my daughter-in-law was performing in the hand bell choir, we'd volunteered to take care of three-year-old Tyler during the concert.

I've never met a three-year-old who'd sit quietly through two hours of anything.



I've never met a three-year-old who'd sit quietly through two hours of anything. Still, Tyler was doing better than we'd expected, sitting in Grandma's lap, playing with his book and looking around at all the bright decorations. He was especially quiet when the brass section of the orchestra chimed in—seems he's transfixed by horns.

Then, about half-way through the program, it became clear we'd pushed his attention span to the limit—horns notwithstanding. I suppose if there had been other kids running up and down the aisles we wouldn't have reigned him in, but we decided his choice was between sitting more or less still, or heading out to the hall.

For the rest of the concert, he tested our resolve, squirming to get down, sometimes throwing his arms up and inadvertently slamming the book into Grandma's face.

It was as if an electric circuit had been broken.



After one such assault, I reached over and simply took firm hold of Tyler's hand. I expected a little struggle. Instead, it was as if an electric circuit had been broken. Right away, without even looking at me, he stopped squirming. All that impatience, all that energy, seemed suddenly channeled toward that little hand. I felt it and responded by relaxing my grip, resting my open hand, palm up, on my thigh.

Instead of pulling away, Tyler kept his hand where it was. For the next 20 minutes, he unconsciously explored the contours of my palm, thumb and each finger. His hand was warm and dry; it felt good in mine. I experienced a flow of something powerful through that curious touch, a sensation that simultaneously opened and centered me.

What was it about Tyler's touch that quieted both him and me so suddenly, so completely?

I knew I was connected with something pure and timeless. The slight anxiety I'd been feeling about his possibly disrupting the service just melted away. Now the music seemed to touch me more deeply than it had a few minutes before. The aura of strangers sitting nearby seemed to wrap snugly around us. I felt closer than ever to my wife.

I was calmly, silently happy.

What was it about Tyler's touch that quieted both him and me so suddenly, so completely? What was the unconscious message he spoke so softly, yet so articulately? I decided not to ruin its magic by asking.

HOW TO BE IN THE MOMENT – 101 Tips

TIP #82
Get Into a Frozen Lake.

Fissures crack and groan; leaks well up and set like candle wax; bubbles, bobbers and bluegills are frozen in time. 

Keen senses prove that lake ice, like each of us, is no immutable whole, but a tattered raft of so many separate floes.

PATHS OF WONDER – Can You Get There From Here?

I wonder… Could there be two words more central to human evolution? From the days of our primitive ancestors, it was this simple instinct that set man on his path toward eventual dominion—for good or for ill—over all other creatures and over many of the earth’s other, inanimate assets.

How curious that the verb “to wonder,” is so different in meaning from the noun, “wonder.” To wonder about something is nothing like experiencing wonder. If wondering feeds the mind, wonder feeds the soul. Wondering involves curiosity; wonder is, somehow, about knowing. Wondering is linear; wonder transcends any dimension.

This humility not only makes us better citizens of the world, it puts us in touch with our Creator. 

The one thing that does tie wondering to wonder is that often you can’t get to wonder without first wondering. And that investment, for me, has never failed to pay off.

In Nature’s realm, the curiosity's just the down payment on the real prize. If we're lucky enough to notice something that takes us to a state of wonder, that, in turn, inspires gratitude and reminds us what a small place we occupy in the unfathomable expanse of space and time. This humility not only makes us better citizens of the world, it puts us in touch with our Creator.

SOME REFUSE THE GIFT

Animals of other species are born with some degree of curiosity, but none, as far as we know, has the capacity to imagine or experience wonder. They simply learn from their parents what’s worked for previous generations; they emulate their peers; they learn from trial and error (provided they survive the error); and they follow certain hard-wired instincts. (Think of a cat’s chase response, a cephalopod’s ink cloud defense or a human mother’s letdown of milk when she hears her baby cry).

We human beings, though we still retain some instinctive responses of our own, are blessed with the singular capacity to choose how—or whether—to think about something. We alone can imagine something that doesn’t yet exist, and then create it. We can also decide whether or not to welcome wonder when we have the chance.

Spurning the gift of wonder…deprives you of something you need every bit as much as you do the rewards of more material pursuits.

Sadly, there are people with every opportunity to know wonder who choose other priorities. You know the people I’m talking about; they’re the ones who allow
themselves to be defined by the making and spending of money, power or some other currency. They're convinced there’s no truth beyond their own little spheres of interest, so focused on their concept of “the prize” that they fail to notice the beautiful landscape along the way.

I’m not saying that spurning the gift of wonder is wrong; it's just that it deprives you of something you need every bit as much as—perhaps even more than—the rewards of more material pursuits.

MY LITTLE PATH 

So I’ve made it my challenge—my life’s work, if you will—to wonder. I want to make sure my little path through this place and time is a peaceful, creative, constructive one, one of beauty, appreciation, worship and awe. I don’t know where the path leads, but I’m pretty sure that’s less important than knowing it leads somewhere I want to go.

A central theme of this journey is that, no matter how far I’ve come, many truths will continue to lead me on, always just beyond my reach.

People who are all about knowing...don’t have a clue about wondering, not to mention ever realizing the gift of wonder. 

Do you get the feeling as I do that some people see wondering as a sign of weakness? After all, it’s so inconsistent with knowing. And knowing, it seems, is to many the most highly prized possession of all. Perhaps they're confusing knowing with the truth.

Remember what I said about not being able to experience wonder without first wondering? People who are all about knowing, who always need to be right, don’t have a clue about wondering, not to mention ever realizing the gift of wonder.

WHERE ARE WE?   

What a shame that people can't even find the trailhead for such a beautiful hike! For the path from wondering to wonder leads one through a sequence of powerful capacities: wondering leads to discovery; discovery to learning; learning to imagination; imagination to creativity and, finally, in a connection that few understand and even fewer believe, it's that creativity that opens one's mind and spirit to the sense of wonder.

You'll notice that this wandering, wondering way has no tangible destination—especially if you expect that place to be some kind of easy answer. This is why the knowers of this world choose other paths.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve decided I value the wondering more than the knowing. So I’ll carry on with my perpetual quest for my own version of truth, aware that there may well be none more worthy than wonder.

 

RECLAIM WONDER! – Some New Year's Resolutions

I believe I'm surrounded by wonders great and small, all the time, wherever I am.

I understand that many of those miracles lie hidden to first glances.

I will open my spirit to wonder. My eyes, my ears, my heart will follow.

I will make time for awareness, curiosity and wonder.

I will turn off the television, put down the book and start looking, learning and living first-hand.

I will decide for myself what entertains me and, more importantly, what nourishes my soul.

I will notice and celebrate the power of presence.   

I will carefully examine the myth of certainty, and value learning more than knowing.

I will be more aware of the miracle of grace that resides around and within every person.

I will shine the light of my own spirit, and will give other people the chance to shine too.

I will try to experience everything as if it were for the first time.

I will approach each day with faith in Nature's instruction, and with gratitude for being Her lifelong pupil.

I will be patient, not just with Nature, but with myself, celebrating small steps in the right direction.

I will seize every opportunity to help a screen-bound child reconnect with Nature. 


For your own FULL-COLOR, FRAMEABLE VERSION of the Reclaiming Wonder Pledge, just send me an e-mail: jeff@willius.com

AWESOME, SCHMAWESOME – The Slow Death of Superlatives

Awe is the most transcendent of all human emotions. That makes it hard to talk or write about. After all, words are all we have, and they are so inadequate. That doesn't keep us from trying, though—sometimes, perhaps, a little too hard.

ILLUSTRATION: Katy Farina

HYPER-HYPE
For example, in my lifetime the word awe in all of its manifestations, as well as other terms used to describe profound emotion, have been rendered virtually powerless by their misuse and overuse. The media—especially the entertainment media (which now apparently includes journalism)—seem afraid that if they don’t out-awe the competition, they just won’t get noticed.

Awe, awful and awesome...roll off people’s tongues like so many watermelon seeds at a July picnic.

And it’s rubbed off on everyone; just listen to how people talk. Awe, awful and awesome, not to mention ambitious words like disaster, horrific, unbelievable, extreme or mega-fill-in-the-blank, roll off people’s tongues like so many watermelon seeds at a July picnic.

CALL THE AWE POLICE
My children’s generation managed to attach awesome to everything from Nikes to Napster, rendering that word, in particular, powerless to describe much of anything that’s truly important. Come on now, if everything’s awesome, then nothing is.

So how do we describe something that really is rare and awesome—or unspeakably bad—when the words we once reserved for such occasions have gotten so threadbare?

I suppose we could try to restore those words to their long-lost potency. Under threat of arrest, we’d reserve them for describing—or should I say trying to describe—only things that really matter. Like an experience (good or bad) we can never fully understand, and which truly humbles us. Short of that, very, very little of what most of us are or do or see qualifies as either "awful" or "awesome."

Wouldn’t the truest, most articulate expression of an emotion this powerful be utter speechlessness?

THE ELOQUENCE OF SILENCE

The other solution, one that makes more sense to me, would be to just accept the fact that some words, especially those derived from awe, have simply become too frivolous to be used or believed any more. After all, wouldn’t the truest, most articulate expression of an emotion this powerful be utter speechlessness?

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed." ~ ALBERT EINSTEIN

SEASON'S GREETINGS!!

I may be without a computer for a few days, so I want to wish all my visitors and loyal followers from all over the world—over 70 countries so far—the very best of this season. For us Christians, that means MERRY CHRISTMAS! (para mis amigos hispanohablantes, ¡FELIZ NAVIDAD!) For my Jewish friends, it's HAPPY HANUKKAH! For all of us here in the northern hemisphere, it's HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE! 

Whatever your celebration, may these days be kind to you, your families and your loved ones!