"There is a language of wonder..."
Although we have heard that language many times, we may not remember exactly when and how often. It seems so much easier to remember the language of discontent and skepticism. It seems much easier to keep count of the slights and harps that come our way, than to count ON and keep count OF our wonders and blessings... Perhaps we prefer to keep count of those slights, barbs and digs so that we can at some point counter them.
The language of wonder...Yes, I have heard it, and actually - come to think of it - maybe I'm hearing it all the time. Perhaps the language of discontent is never able to fully drown out the language of wonder. The wonder of wonder is that it lingers, it must have wide open recesses in our physic/psychic being, although - darn it :) – the language of discontent hangs around too, but maybe more in the agoraphobic recesses of our troubled or troubling minds.
Maybe we cannot hold on to the language of wonder as much as we tend to be able to hold on to the language of its opposite.
Could it be because there is not as much anecdotal or gossip value in wonder as there is in skepticism and questioning?
Perhaps a certain jadedness has filtered away our readiness-to-see-wonder and our enthusiasm-to-spread- it. We don't seem to be able to easily acknowledge beauty and poetry in the miracle of life without first questioning it. And if it so happens - if we happen to touch upon wonder in some rare coffee table conversation - the marvelous and wonderful so quickly turns us into focusing on the wonderlessness of what we tend to call the "realities of life." Even when such coffee talk or tea time started with admiration and the hope for the continuation of it, we so quickly come up with expressions like, "Who said life has to be fair?" or "We get the leaders we deserve!"
It seems that gossip and tabloid like stories are utterly satisfying in our hunger for fast talk and easy reads. They are also much more readily available from the media's fast-food pickup windows while we 'drive through' life following the blacktop arrows and curbs to line ourselves up for our daily fix of quick dinner and conversation topics.
Funny isn't it, that fast-food for our shortened attention spans is in some strange way easier to gobble up than slow-food good news, even if it gives us similar digestion problems as the edible fasts food varieties - albethey mental and emotional.
Do we love hurt more - even if it hurts us or others - because of a contorted feeling of satisfaction that comes with the joy of jibing and jarring other people's fortune or misfortune? Notice that even now, as I am writing this, the urge to deviate from the path that leads to 'the world of wonder' came too quickly... :)