wonder

In a couple of places recently (a book and a magazine, to be exact), I have read reference to “fostering a sense of wonder” among one’s children, complete with accompanying bullet point suggestions. It kind of got me thinking, because that idea didn't really resonate with me. It wasn't that any of the suggestions in particular were so awful, just that the whole idea seemed a little off base. Now, don't get me wrong--I don’t see my kids as perfect little self-contained beings that can raise themselves if we just provide them with an optimal environment. That kind of thinking kind of drives me crazy, actually. Kid do need our leadership, they need a healthy legacy of tradition and knowledge and values that are both explicitly and implicitly taught over time. They need limits and loving, consistent discipline. But a sense of wonder? They do come to us with that. It really does take care of itself if we provide a good environment for it and we really can get in the way of it.

Little kids are usually absolutely full of questions and ideas and amazement at all they learn every day. They are full of wonder if we don’t get in the way, but we do. We get frustrated with the incessant chatter and blow off their questions. We expect them to appreciate the grand vistas when they are full of wonder at the tiny details of life. Sometimes we give them only scripted crap to play with instead of encouraging authentic creative play. We over-indulge them and over-schedule them. And in the process, we forget that occasionally, our children can show us a thing or two.

Seeing life through their eyes is, in my opinion, one of the most real and true joys of life. The small, tiny things that we adults miss in our hurried busyness areworth stopping and paying attention to. The drip of a faucet. The changing shape of the moon over days. The smell of the wind. The squishy pull of mud on our shoes when we hike in the woods. The feel of sand between fingers. Tiny ants and flying insects, shadows, birdsongs, animal tracks in the snow. Kids are full of wonder at everything from the mundane to the spectacular. And the questions! For every bunch of repetitive silliness there's a gem. Did it stink inside Noah's Ark? What is the biggest number of all? Does God get tired sometimes? Who made God? How many worms are there in our backyard? Why do we have wars? If everybody in the world closed their eyes at the same time, would the sun blow out? Tuning into all that with them, appreciating their mostly micro perspective and all the big questions, is to be connected to all we tune out when we rush through our daily obligations.

So why do we spend so much energy trying to give them spectacular experiences? Why do we think we need to impress them, to load up the space underneath the tree, to try and create that manufactured burst of enthusiasm? I think there are several reasons that lead to this impulse. Marketing to both kids and parents is a big one. Misguided guilt can be a factor. Sometimes, perhaps, we just want to be able to take credit for our kids' joy because we're more ambivalent about how we're contributing to their development. There isn't much in our culture that gives us the message that our time and best loving effort as parents are enough.

There are lot of things on my To Do list this season. The shopping will be minimal, as we're keeping things simple. As we have done before, we will adopt a family who has less than we do through a local nonprofit. We will light the advent candles and say a simple prayer together every evening. We will pack, and visit family, and bake cookies, and sing in church and at home, and participate in the Christmas program. We will put up a Christmas tree, and hang peanut-butter and birdseed covered pine-cones in our front yard tree, the same tree that is now covered in lights, that we cover in dryer lint for the birds nests of spring, that gives us crab-apples to play with in the fall, and squirrels and birds to watch all year round.

I will not, however, have "creating a sense of wonder" as an agenda item. Our job during Advent is not to inject our children with some elixir they might be deficient in, it is to resist the temptation to overdo everything, from shopping to what's on the calendar. If J and I don't get lost in the busyness, if we answer Noah and Oliver's good questions about what this season means, if we just take time to appreciate and spend time with each other and breathe, the wonder will be there for our children. If we're as fortunate as we've been for the last 3.8 years, Noah and Oliver may even share a bit of it with us.