Remember the Wonder
I was talking to a friend today about what we would do with one year of “chill” time. What would be our true desire? None of us truly wanted to be bankers or lawyers the rest of our lives, right?
When did the wonders of the world as viewed through the eyes of a child, cease to be simply, wonderful? Remember our childish fascination with what adults did everyday, like write checks, drive cars, put on a tie, go to work. Looking back now with jaded and amused recollection, it’s remarkable how little it took to make a child wonder.
“Wonder” is the key ingredient, isn’t it. I suppose it’s human nature to continue to find different events, things, thoughts, and constantly make ourselves exercise our minds. For some it becomes a perpetual chase for the next career or financial challenge, for others it the physical challenge of building houses from the ground up in a third world country.
As cavemen we couldn’t resist the wonder of fire, and challenged ourselves to control it. As modern homosapiens, we can’t resist the wonder of the next mental or physical stimulation. Not only can’t we resist it, we want to conquer it, master it, and pronounce ourselves the proudest intelligent being, bar none.
This inherent drive to improve, and even better, to excel – it must be a unique feature of humans. All other beings in the animal kingdom are quite content to just “be” – I suppose the homo sapien has to pay the price of ambition (and self-doubt) for the gift of intelligence.
Perhaps that’s why it is difficult for most people to just stop their daily humdrum for a while, and just “be”. To just take a deep breath and remember what the air smells like. What the sidewalk feels like when you step on it with a little bounce because you’re happy, and alive, and have two healthy legs and pretty sturdy feet. What the wind feels like when it rushes into your face as you turn the corner onto Madison Avenue. What simple pleasure it is to just be an observer of a scene, and yet be a participant in the larger stage of life.
That was what I felt Monday night. Always rushing, always gunning for the next thing. The next big project, the next stupid person at work I want to put in his/her place, the next guy in Kung Fu class I want to beat, the next route I want to work on in the climbing gym. Always looking to climb one step higher, do everything one level better. I had forgotten how much fun my life was already, just by standing still and letting everyone else’s everyday flow around me, opening up all my senses and truly seeing, what my world is like.
Perhaps it’s because I am leaving New York soon, there is a warning bell reminding me that there is not that much time left to drink New York’s cup of life to its very dregs. So tonight, I decided to walk, and not stride with insane speed like I usually do. But stroll, and smile, and enjoy a balmy evening in the Manhattan. The slightly fishy garbage-like smell of New York air, the uneven sidewalk and bits of dried dog poop, the little Hispanic guy that sells flowers outside the ubiquitous Korean deli, the unique harmony that is New York.
As I stroll, the melody of New York life becomes clearer, first to my ears, then to my head, and reaches an echo in my heart. The bump and hiss of MTA buses provide a syncopated beat to the flowing swish of yellow cabs, punctuated by the occasional honk. In the background, always people. Humanity weaving in and out of the bars of traffic music, sometimes so much in the foreground I have to swerve and avoid them, other times a throbbing background presence that reminds me I am witnessing the stuff of life.
I’ll miss you, New York. But I’m sure I’ll find the music of life, maybe with slightly different instruments this time, played to a different beat, in Hong Kong. I have to remember to actually take the time to listen, and maybe even play an accompaniment of my own.
When did the wonders of the world as viewed through the eyes of a child, cease to be simply, wonderful? Remember our childish fascination with what adults did everyday, like write checks, drive cars, put on a tie, go to work. Looking back now with jaded and amused recollection, it’s remarkable how little it took to make a child wonder.
“Wonder” is the key ingredient, isn’t it. I suppose it’s human nature to continue to find different events, things, thoughts, and constantly make ourselves exercise our minds. For some it becomes a perpetual chase for the next career or financial challenge, for others it the physical challenge of building houses from the ground up in a third world country.
As cavemen we couldn’t resist the wonder of fire, and challenged ourselves to control it. As modern homosapiens, we can’t resist the wonder of the next mental or physical stimulation. Not only can’t we resist it, we want to conquer it, master it, and pronounce ourselves the proudest intelligent being, bar none.
This inherent drive to improve, and even better, to excel – it must be a unique feature of humans. All other beings in the animal kingdom are quite content to just “be” – I suppose the homo sapien has to pay the price of ambition (and self-doubt) for the gift of intelligence.
Perhaps that’s why it is difficult for most people to just stop their daily humdrum for a while, and just “be”. To just take a deep breath and remember what the air smells like. What the sidewalk feels like when you step on it with a little bounce because you’re happy, and alive, and have two healthy legs and pretty sturdy feet. What the wind feels like when it rushes into your face as you turn the corner onto Madison Avenue. What simple pleasure it is to just be an observer of a scene, and yet be a participant in the larger stage of life.
That was what I felt Monday night. Always rushing, always gunning for the next thing. The next big project, the next stupid person at work I want to put in his/her place, the next guy in Kung Fu class I want to beat, the next route I want to work on in the climbing gym. Always looking to climb one step higher, do everything one level better. I had forgotten how much fun my life was already, just by standing still and letting everyone else’s everyday flow around me, opening up all my senses and truly seeing, what my world is like.
Perhaps it’s because I am leaving New York soon, there is a warning bell reminding me that there is not that much time left to drink New York’s cup of life to its very dregs. So tonight, I decided to walk, and not stride with insane speed like I usually do. But stroll, and smile, and enjoy a balmy evening in the Manhattan. The slightly fishy garbage-like smell of New York air, the uneven sidewalk and bits of dried dog poop, the little Hispanic guy that sells flowers outside the ubiquitous Korean deli, the unique harmony that is New York.
As I stroll, the melody of New York life becomes clearer, first to my ears, then to my head, and reaches an echo in my heart. The bump and hiss of MTA buses provide a syncopated beat to the flowing swish of yellow cabs, punctuated by the occasional honk. In the background, always people. Humanity weaving in and out of the bars of traffic music, sometimes so much in the foreground I have to swerve and avoid them, other times a throbbing background presence that reminds me I am witnessing the stuff of life.
I’ll miss you, New York. But I’m sure I’ll find the music of life, maybe with slightly different instruments this time, played to a different beat, in Hong Kong. I have to remember to actually take the time to listen, and maybe even play an accompaniment of my own.
posted by tygertyger at 7:21 PM
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