When you noticed the title on this post, did you have a strong desire to correct “Fult” to “Fault”? I penned the title a while back and when I found it in my notes, I had to resist the urge to correct it. It is a play on the book title “The Fault In Our Stars” but “Fult” is definitely the intended spelling and this post has nothing to do with John Greene or William Shakespeare. Well, at least nothing intentionally.

“Fult” in my world actually means Fulton John, my 45 month old grandson. I say 45 months because he sits in that incredibly special zone of change between three and four years old and its special developmental progression demands such particularity. You see, I awoke this morning in my own particular bit of exuberance and such bounding joy reminded me of Fulton – himself a bundle of bounding, carefree, joy.

Of course, 45 months can be a tempestuous and rascally age as well, but I believe the emotional engine that fuels such capacities is born of a boundless exuberance – a joy in the very act of being and in a world that has endless mysteries to discover. Fulton has the unique gift of seeing so many things for the first time, time and time again. He can accept their mystery at face value, understand them, and then get lost in their mystery again. Everything is magically interesting and the fertile fields of his imagination embrace the wonder in a way that, alas, few of us can remember.

For me, Fulton is an incredible resonator and I was reminded of this last night as he followed me around during a family gathering. He had a thousand questions…before we’d moved five steps. He both anticipated what was next and allowed himself to get lost in it. From starting a fire in the firepit to finishing the ribs on the grill to gathering sticks to chasing his cousin, Arthur, and back again to the next set of questions and his unique commentary…Fulton was exuberantly curious and engaged with everything that presented itself.

Moving into the dark of the evening, he asked me about the “Night Sky” app on my phone and all of the kids gathered around to see the constellations and the names of the planets and many stars. His eyes sparkled in wonder as he looked and asked. All of those stars in our Fult were on full display and I was filled with wonder.

Waking this morning, the wonder returned as I thought of all six of my grandchildren engaging in each unique zone of their development: the curious eyes of the unspeaking infant, the free-range faltering steps of the two year olds, the “race me” physicality of the five year old, and the “play catch with me” evolution of the seven year old. And of course, the endless questions of the 45 month old, eyes sparkling as his mind flitted across the world’s curiosities like a bee in a flower garden. All of it wondrously magical.

Exuberance is such a big, capacious word, reflecting joy with energy and motion. It suggests a thrill in living, a kinetic embrace of life’s possibilities with the hope and fascination they inspire. We can’t produce it. There is no contriving exuberance, we can only receive it as gift when it comes. Ahhh…but when it comes…try to remember to lose yourself to it and just let it be.

What or who resonates joy in your life? Where do you awake, exuberant in the special magic of the world in which you exist?

Thinking of the joyful little resonators in my life, I’m reminded of a poem I penned not so long ago:

These are the holy innocents,
To them belongs the Kingdom of Heaven.
There is no duplicity in them,
Guileless, they see clear-eyed
And the Word rests easy in their hearts.

Shiny, sparkly lies the truth,
Pure like rain and wind and flame.
Their ground is firm,
Needing no buttress or anchor -
It holds fast, flexing, swaying, standing.

Wonder lights their days
And imagination their nights.
All is heavenly, Godly, mystery.
With ease the unknown rests,
Swaddled in unblemished trust.

Do you remember the days
When the sky was infinite hope
And the horizon infinite goodness?
There are still places in which
The Good and the True reside.

Hold fast young Master,
Relish daily little Miss,
The world seeks to turn you,
From Beauty's simple bliss.

There are still places,
Where Love holds full sway.
Revel in childhood's gift,
Fully trusting, come what may.

Looking around today, may you see the Fult in your stars. May you be reminded of the days when the sky was infinite hope and the horizon infinite goodness. Ours is such a magical world and full of so much possibility. Hold those resonators close and allow yourself to resonate the joy as you receive it. It’s the kind of gift that multiplies when you give it away.