Existential meanderings:On immunity to wonder
On a languid Friday afternoon such as this one, I find myself in the cloudy haze of drowsiness that's induced by a sugar rush. I drift off into one of the obscure shadowy uninhabited corners of my mind. My thoughts start moving around in what's termed a "random walk". Amidst the many reflections that bounce back and forth the walls,one thought gains form. My mother is a remarkable woman.
As if I'm wholly detached from my own thoughts,I find myself agreeing with this statement like an outsider. My immediate next thought is this. I have somehow become "immune" to her exceptional excellence. This one statement was like the single snowflake that starts an avalanche.It brought forth a deluge of thoughts. And in that moment,sleepy as I was,I realized that this is something worth writing about.So here I am,trying to capture the million ephemeral thoughts that transpire in a second and imprison them into words forever.
Going back to my original example, I have always looked up to my mother. I still do. But somewhere along the years, the feeling itself has changed in its manifestation. From a sense of utter awe coupled with ultimate respect, it has now been watered down to a take-it-for-granted,that's-how-she-is attitude.As a result, I now look at all her actions with much less wonder than I would have in the past.
Although I chose this example merely for illustration, it holds across all arenas of life.
Life robs us of the ability to wonder. And this is one of my sorest grievances. Wonder is such a sublime emotion. Remember that first time you looked at all the stars in sky? Can you recollect what you felt then? Maybe you can feel the memory in perfect vividness;or maybe like me,you only have a vague recollection. Or worse still,you have no inkling of the feeling no matter how hard you try--it's been far too long.
Remember the time when you used to stare at clouds and wonder who drew such creatively intricate patterns in the sky? The time when a sunset seemed the most beautiful thing on this planet? Or when a waterfall cascading in silver splendor took your breath away? How about when you stood on a beach and felt the warm grains of sand under your feet;when a wave playfully hit you and tried to rob you of your footing--when each texture of sand and water was something amazing? When you would start hunting for a rainbow the minute sun and rain shared a roof called the sky;the exultation at finding one,seven colorful arcs that seemed to envelop the earth; can you visualize that feeling for me? And now,how do you look at these things? Have they somehow attained that dreaded label called "normal"? Has nature become no more than a wallpaper that you don't even look at,leave alone acknowledge?
It's not just nature. Do you remember looking at a theory or a proof and smiling at its absolute perfection? Do you remember looking at a technique and marveling at how it simplified the picture and effortlessly traced a path from the problem to the solution? And then, as you use that very technique/concept/theory, it gradually starts to lose allure. Eventually, it ends up as just another thing you do.
What about people,you ask? More of the same. When you first meet them, there's so much that you don't know, so much intrigue. And every time you discover something new about them, you stare at them in awe. Wow, this person is so amazing. Ever so slowly, you go from celebrating those amazing traits to just accepting them. And then,you fall into the abyss of taking them for granted.
And this vicious cycle is true for all the good things in life. The dreaded carriage that goes by the name of time rolls its wheels forward ,grinding underneath it your wonder and leaving beneath the mangled remains of indifference. It is as if your brain thinks of wonder as a disease and produces antibodies so that you become immune to it. Every wonderful thing ultimately ends up as just normal, sometimes even lesser than that.
Ah,what would I not give to look with fresh eyes. To relive the days where you celebrate something in all its glory.People, places and things alike. But no, I've long since become immune to wonder. And in this dreary existence, I search for wonder like a parched traveler searches for an oasis; hoping for deliverance from this suffocating overdose of nonchalance.
Although I'm afraid I'm looking for something that doesn't exist.
Tell me, Dear Reader,why does it have to be like this?
P.S: Can you think of an adjective that's used with wonder? Childlike is the first and only one that came to my mind. And I wondered(irony:P), is it that children are capable of a greater degree of wonder than we are? Is it one of those qualities you lose out on as you open the gates to adulthood?
As if I'm wholly detached from my own thoughts,I find myself agreeing with this statement like an outsider. My immediate next thought is this. I have somehow become "immune" to her exceptional excellence. This one statement was like the single snowflake that starts an avalanche.It brought forth a deluge of thoughts. And in that moment,sleepy as I was,I realized that this is something worth writing about.So here I am,trying to capture the million ephemeral thoughts that transpire in a second and imprison them into words forever.
Going back to my original example, I have always looked up to my mother. I still do. But somewhere along the years, the feeling itself has changed in its manifestation. From a sense of utter awe coupled with ultimate respect, it has now been watered down to a take-it-for-granted,that's-how-she-is attitude.As a result, I now look at all her actions with much less wonder than I would have in the past.
Although I chose this example merely for illustration, it holds across all arenas of life.
Life robs us of the ability to wonder. And this is one of my sorest grievances. Wonder is such a sublime emotion. Remember that first time you looked at all the stars in sky? Can you recollect what you felt then? Maybe you can feel the memory in perfect vividness;or maybe like me,you only have a vague recollection. Or worse still,you have no inkling of the feeling no matter how hard you try--it's been far too long.
Remember the time when you used to stare at clouds and wonder who drew such creatively intricate patterns in the sky? The time when a sunset seemed the most beautiful thing on this planet? Or when a waterfall cascading in silver splendor took your breath away? How about when you stood on a beach and felt the warm grains of sand under your feet;when a wave playfully hit you and tried to rob you of your footing--when each texture of sand and water was something amazing? When you would start hunting for a rainbow the minute sun and rain shared a roof called the sky;the exultation at finding one,seven colorful arcs that seemed to envelop the earth; can you visualize that feeling for me? And now,how do you look at these things? Have they somehow attained that dreaded label called "normal"? Has nature become no more than a wallpaper that you don't even look at,leave alone acknowledge?
It's not just nature. Do you remember looking at a theory or a proof and smiling at its absolute perfection? Do you remember looking at a technique and marveling at how it simplified the picture and effortlessly traced a path from the problem to the solution? And then, as you use that very technique/concept/theory, it gradually starts to lose allure. Eventually, it ends up as just another thing you do.
What about people,you ask? More of the same. When you first meet them, there's so much that you don't know, so much intrigue. And every time you discover something new about them, you stare at them in awe. Wow, this person is so amazing. Ever so slowly, you go from celebrating those amazing traits to just accepting them. And then,you fall into the abyss of taking them for granted.
And this vicious cycle is true for all the good things in life. The dreaded carriage that goes by the name of time rolls its wheels forward ,grinding underneath it your wonder and leaving beneath the mangled remains of indifference. It is as if your brain thinks of wonder as a disease and produces antibodies so that you become immune to it. Every wonderful thing ultimately ends up as just normal, sometimes even lesser than that.
Ah,what would I not give to look with fresh eyes. To relive the days where you celebrate something in all its glory.People, places and things alike. But no, I've long since become immune to wonder. And in this dreary existence, I search for wonder like a parched traveler searches for an oasis; hoping for deliverance from this suffocating overdose of nonchalance.
Although I'm afraid I'm looking for something that doesn't exist.
Tell me, Dear Reader,why does it have to be like this?
P.S: Can you think of an adjective that's used with wonder? Childlike is the first and only one that came to my mind. And I wondered(irony:P), is it that children are capable of a greater degree of wonder than we are? Is it one of those qualities you lose out on as you open the gates to adulthood?
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