Hopscotching Cross Wonder
Saint Augustine taught me about wonder. He said “you acquire it as a child, and you should never lose it, because it’ll come in handy once you get a day-job.”
To feel wonder is to be astonished, floored (but not ceiling-ed), to say “oh my” with jaw dropped and eyes wide open. It is to embrace an unfamiliar idea like a random book-vending machine.
Then after your embrace it, figure out the place it occupies in the world by asking yourself questions like: Where can I find such a machine? (Click on it for your answer). Am I prepared to learn about marine biology if that’s what Lady Fortune thinks my two cents are worth? What if it’s taxidermy, or anesthesiology, or fishing?
But don’t get overwhelmed. Too much whelm can send you to bed.
Next, wonder is never done. Or rather, it never ends. It all depends on curiosity and silliness’ willingness to strong-arm disbelief til the paper is no longer ripped but rugged.
Whomever is responsible for locking English away, I hope they reconsider. Language is claustrophobic, it needs to go outside, lest its feathers fade and its speakers forget what to do during vocabulary tests.
Someone is giving English away for Christmas. I hope for the fresh stuff, even though it spoils quicker than canned, and a canned adjective is always a two-for-one.
And finally, a few words from Mr. Vonnegut about a group of people that don’t want your money, your brain to wash, or your lawn to stick signs in.
All they want is for you to risk getting confused for a while, and lost when you have the time, to see what happens after the search party finds you.
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