This prompt is difficult for me to answer because I don’t really make an effort to cultivate a sense of wonder, I just have one. Every time I catch a glimpse of the mountains surrounding me I experience wonder. Or when I read a fantastic bit of fiction, or when I notice how much my friends’ children have changed, or when I manage to catch a glimpse of nearly anything out of my mundane.
Every time I hear that John Mellencamp song, “Jack and Diane,” I dwell on these lines:
“Say uh, oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone
Say uh, oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone. They walk on.”
After the thrill of living is gone? When does that happen? How? I’m 26, and I’m still excited about seeing toads. (On my last visit home to Michigan I found one as I was crossing the street. One of the joys of being from a small town is the ability to be the jackass chasing a toad down the street in the middle of the night without having to worry about disrupting traffic. When I caught it I brought it to Georgia, who also feels that sense of wonder, we admired it for a few minutes while it stared at us resentfully, and then released it.)
I guess I cultivated a sense of wonder in my life by living it.