Wonder Kindling
Tips to jumpstart your wonder when it goes missing
The world has lost its wonder.
Well, at least many parts have. Compare modern architecture to the complex and ornate wonder of gothic cathedrals. The buildings surrounding me are all beige, square, uninspired, efficient. Does the physical structure of modern society in all its monotony not just scream, “How can I make the most money?”
How dull.
I can often feel the scheming villain of capitalism finding new dastardly ways every day to suck out all my life force, to rob me of my sense of wonder. It tries to steal anything from me that might make me less obedient, less docile.
Capitalism is terrified of our sense of wonder.
It is damn near impossible to strategize against the systems of capitalism and patriarchy and white supremacy when our lives are so centered around earning an income, focusing on adult functioning, and self-caring just so we can continue to serve as useful cogs in a machine that seeks only to exploit and dominate.
I would here like to invite you to join the rebel faction and commit wondrous little acts of treason through daily rituals. You can do them at home or when out and about. Do them on the job even!
Time theft is beautiful.
For too long we’ve knelt at the cliff’s edge, gripping the trembling hands of curiosity, playfulness, and awe as they dangle over the abyss of productivity and functioning. It’s time to pull them back up. Let them breathe. Let them sit beside you again as companions, not burdens.
I have divided my list of wonder practices into those that are silly and those that are pretty. Have fun!
Silly
Throw a minute-long dance party to celebrate your birthday every day at the time that correlates with your birth month and day (E.g., if you were born on March 15th, do a little celebration at 3:15PM each day).
Give your trash can a voice and say “Om nom nom” every time you throw something away.
Announce that “It’s bath time!” every time you do the dishes.
Say hello to the moon.
When an object isn’t functioning, accuse it of mutiny.
Play the stardew valley soundtrack when doing chores and running errands
Compliment trees and flowers verbally.
Omit commands from your to-do list (E.g., rather than “Clean the sheets,” I write, “Ada deserves the coziness of fresh clean sheets”).
Update insects on current events of your life as if long-term friends.
Protest “No don’t leave me!” when an object falls.
Shout “Unhand me!” when your clothes are caught on an object.
Name your home and greet it whenever you arrive.
Speak about your pets as if they are your landlords.
Dress formally for informal events, and less formally for more formal events.
Play your appliances’ favorite songs for them as a treat.
Shout, “Behold!” each time you open a window.
When missing a sock, hold the one you do have hostage until its accomplice reveals itself.
Bow respectfully to the first bird you see each day.
Narrate your actions aloud as if you’re an animal in a nature documentary.
When putting your socks and shoes, tell them about your quest and invite them to join you.
Declare one object in your home the “Object of the Day” and treat it with ridiculous honor.
When leaving somewhere, whisper, “Don’t tell anyone I was here,” to something as you cross the threshold.
Pretty
When you lie down at night, imagine you are drifting on a quiet tide the moon has summoned just for you.
Do something you used to love when you were small (draw in the dirt, play an old game, etc).
When a breeze brushes your face, treat it like a passing note from an sweet friend.
Touch the spine of a book as if it’s an animal sleeping, and open it gently so it wakes kindly.
Let the first bite of a fruit or pastry be a small celebration of sweetness returning to the world.
When rain begins, imagine each drop carrying a story from someplace far away.
Thank gravity for endlessly holding you so that you aren’t flung from the spinning Earth.
Spend your evening with the lights low, let moonlight paint your walls, and pretend the patterns foretell something gentle.
Climb trees regularly. Sit high up in one, with a book even, and treat it as your home.
Wear more plants: flowers in your hair, leaves on necklaces.
Bake something fragrant everyday, e.g., bread, pastries, spiced chai.
Do something creative — writing, drawing, sewing — and do it poorly with love.
Write love notes to the day, to the moon, to your plants, to your body.
Trace constellations on your skin with your fingertip, claiming them as soft sigils of protection.
Hold your own hands when you’re nervous, the way a lover would.
Place your palm on your chest when your heart races and say, softly, “Easy now, love.”
Tuck sprigs of herbs into your pockets so you carry a garden’s scent with you.
Hug someone you love a little longer this time.
Wonder is not a luxury.
It is not some pretty, new age spiritual practice bastardized and appropriated from a far away indigenous culture decimated by the same systems of power.
It is a lifeline.
It is how we remember we are not machines.
If you feel drawn to this, I would be delighted if you’d share your own acts of wonder-treason in the comments. I would genuinely love to steal them.
And if you know someone who is starving for wonder, whimsy, or rebellion, feel free to send this their way.
Let’s keep pulling each other back from the cliff.
The world is more alive when we are.
Beautiful. Agree - resisting utilitarianism, instrumental rationalities, and the dull dread spaces that capitalism tells us are adult and real is important. One of my practices is to anthropomorphise my clothing and name it. For this, and other things, I I (and my fam) always thought I was either performatively whimsical or just a bit odd. But being an anthropologist and learning how enchanted the world is for many, gives me confidence that - actually, this enchantment and wonder is our human birthright. Thanks for the suggestions for new directions to take this and especial thanks for resisting the bastardisation and further plundering of indigenous and traditional cultures.
Oh, so sweet and so thought-provoking...I would never do that, I thought - and then reflected on my day...morning greetings to the birds as we walk and then their breakfast time, 'what are you doing in flower? You'll regret it if it turns chilly' to the stubborn rose... And quoting literature to my dog as I wrote about yesterday. Here's to wonder🙏