This past week I went snowboarding with my youngest son and a couple of my friends. My friends are skiers and my son and I, boarders. (du-u-de!) When we got to the mountain they went their way and we went ours. Since my son is relatively new at this 'sport', we decided to stay on some of the less challenging runs and take it slow. Every trip back up the slope on the lift, my son, who is twelve, would offer up a different question. "Dad, what would happen if my board fell?, Dad, if you saw somebody bif it hard into that tree down there would you jump off the lift to help him?, Dad, does the lift actually slow down between poles or does it just seem like it because it gets so quiet? Dad, if we're up so high why don't the stars feel any closer?" ...great questions from a mind that never quits wondering. It got me to thinking. Thinking about this thing we call 'wonder'.
All of my life, or at least the part that my mind lets me remember, I've had a sort of wanderlust. A want to go. A want to see the world. To see what other people live like. To hear the wind through different trees. To see waves roll in on a foreign shore. To realize that laughter sounds the same in any language. What I didn't realize until that night with my boy, was that it was fueled by the same thing that fuels his questions. Wonderlust. From silly things like why we call one thing tunafish and yet we don't call another chickenbird, to slightly more profound things like what does it really mean to love? I love to wonder. It never gets old because there's rarely a definitive answer to most 'I wonder' questions. Wonder produces more wonder. Life is short and I may never afford to wander like I want to, but I know for certain that I'll never afford not to wonder. Do you think it's possible? Hmmm, I wonder!