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August: On Wonder and Awe
August 18
It’s not the spoon that brings out the flavor, is it? The flavor is in the sauce itself, in each and every ingredient that comes together to make a single, solitary entity. The spoon just gives it a gentle nudge to bring it all out and push it toward something beautiful.
And just so, the capacity for wonder and awe is within us all. I can’t quite say what it is, and words don’t seem adequate to describe it (as with many other things, emotions in particular), but it’s there.
And lucky for us, we’re in a world full of spoons that are just waiting to stir our souls.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 17
“The danger!”
“The danger, yes—that’s real, but I would also venture to say the business of love. I love her, Darrel. And something happens . . . once you step off the last leaf of your flower here. Your eyes open up to it all: the beauty, wonder, and yes, the danger, but no matter how hard you try . . . you can’t shut them again. Because the ground is out there, and it’s calling.”
“The ground, eh?”
“The ground.”
“Hmph. I still think it’s dangerous.”
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 16
That smile on his face at the wonder of its impossible existence.
Would I trade that for an image or idea of something I’ve never seen?
Something I might believe others had, or have?
Or will I hold it, cherish it, protect it—
—because it is more than just an old photograph.
More than a deceased idea from a dead world.
So much more.
In that it is real.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 15
To stand before art is not just to behold its beauty and feel the emotions stirring within you, it is also to marvel at the fact that another human, likely in another time and another place, created something so special and beautiful, and to feel like it exists almost solely for you—while knowing it exists for every other human who experiences it.
Consider art for its own sake. Consider it for the human who created it. Consider it for the feelings and thoughts it creates in your soul and mind.
And enjoy it, because it is perhaps one of the most human things about us.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 14
Look at the mountain from the bottom of a field and you will know what it feels like to be an ant. Look at the doe cleaning her fawn in the glade toward the peak and you will know that love and care transcend humanity.
Take the time to see the mountain from afar and from up close—as a part of it.
Take the time to see your loved ones, the world, and everything in it through eyes of mystery and scale, empathy and credence, and wonder and awe.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 13
It’s getting more difficult to find unexplored and mysterious lands in this world, but there is much still unfathomed by you as an individual. There is so much you haven’t seen and do not understand, and luckily, there always will be. Leave the stale air and artificial light behind. Leave the news and incessant chattering, those ear worms of social media and the impulse to check every text and email, every notification buzzing away in your pocket. The mundane and the horrible have existed on Earth for as long as humans have, but to survive them, we must remain children of the wild and of wonder.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 12
Most everything we exist beside in the modern world (manmade stuff at least) is screaming in your face and waving its arms around jumping up and down, demanding information or attention or even answers from you. Wonder on the other hand, makes one simple request of you: it asks that you exist in the moment and in the stillness and silence of your mind, simply experiencing your existence as a human being . . . without the noise.
Easy to come by? Hardly. And it only seems to be getting more elusive by the day. But it’s not out of reach. And you don’t have to travel to the most remote regions of the planet to find it either. You can find it in your backyard garden. If you don’t have a backyard garden, you can find it on your apartment balcony. If you don’t have an apartment balcony, you can find it at your kitchen table. If you don’t have a kitchen table, you can find it outside in the sky above your head. The point is, you can find this internal silence anywhere. But you’ll have to be smart about it. Set time aside. Turn off your phone, computer, and TV. Tune out the voices in your mind, and let your mind wander into wonder. It will take a few tries to get it right, but oh my, some time away from this noisy world is well worth the effort.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 11
Working outside, among the wonder of nature and the plants, has taught me that what I perceived to be good for me (less bugs and pristine leaves), is not good for nature or the world, and thus not good for me because I am a part of that world, not some entity existing outside of it. I have learned to share. How many tomatoes can I actually eat? How many zucchini can a family stomach over the course of three months? You can get creative with your recipes, but still . . .
Watching the plants grow and then watching the animals and insects build an ecosystem around them, brings with it a sense of awe and humility. That is if you allow it to. If you abandon your arrogance and stand in awe of it.
The natural order of things has been happening long before I was ever here, and if I have anything to say about it, it will continue happening long after I am gone.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 10
Experiencing a sea change is like climbing out of a dark cave and seeing the light of the sun on each blade of grass, stopping to recognize a smile on a loved one’s (or even a stranger’s) face, having patience and reverence for each stage of a flower from young bud to full bloom—and then applying all of this to your daily life. And this isn’t to say that life is perfect for any of these characters or people who undergo this metamorphosis—it’s just that there is a new respect and sense of awe, an added boon of resilience and determination for life and nature and those with them along for the ride.
And the wonderful thing about a sea change is that it can happen at any time—by land or by sea. Yes, they often are the result of a life-changing event, but they don’t have to be. Anyone can just wake up one morning and decide it’s time for a change.
August: On Wonder and Awe
August 9
And then, there are the moments of the in-between.
In thinking about this quote from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, I don’t know if it’s possible to look at everything through the lens of the first or last time. Or even if we should. These moments are special for the simple fact that they are the first and the last. And those moments in between—they might not be the most significant, or even significant at all, but they too are moments in the bigger story of our life. They each have their own purpose, even if it's simply to sit idly, looking out the window of a car on a rainy day, or to sit at your desk and muse over a quote for the 221st time that year, or to climb into your bed once again on the night of your 40th birthday.
All the moments—the firsts, the lasts, the in-betweens—what’s important about them all is that you’re present for them, because before you know it, there won’t be any firsts, lasts, or in-betweens left.
From the publisher's feed
Welcome to the Everyday Human podcast.
My name is Eastin DeVerna. Each day, I'll share a reflection written by me and inspired by literature, poetry, music, movies, video…
Together, we'll explore what it means to be human. Every month we'll walk a new path, taking a look at life, death, the universe, and everything in between.
Thanks for coming along.
For more, visit eastindeverna.com or join me on Instagram @the_everydayhuman.