Yes, Wonder Can Change the World

Here's why we've never needed it more.

It’s November.

I couldn’t tell that by the temperature here in North Florida today, but I could by the quality of light landing on my dining room table.

The way it slants in through the windows, looking like summer warmed up arriving two hours early. But ever so slightly cooler than October, as the days slowly inch toward winter.

And when I say winter… it’s more like a concept of winter. Winter only lasts three days collectively if we’re lucky most years.

There’s something in the marrow of my being calling me north towards four seasons, snowy paths, a rhythm and routine of change of season that isn’t set by the arrival of pumpkin spice lattes in August to Starbucks.

I’ve committed to you, as I have to my readers before you, that I don’t write to fill a calendar. I write when I have something to say.

Lately, I feel the stir of volumes forming in the library of my soul.

Called to Wild Wonder

I feel like the me I was on November 4 and the me I became on November 6 are from two different universes.

No doubt it’s a day that history will write about. And the story told will depend on who does the writing.

It’s always those holding the reins of power who shape our official narratives, but beloved, we get to choose the stories we tell ourselves and one another.

The me I am now will never be the same. And that’s a good thing.

In some oddly bizarre fashion, recent events have reconnected me to the version of myself who marched into a war zone unseen a world away with $400 in her back pocket, some bottled water, and a camp stove, knowing no one.

She was fierce. I haven’t felt her edges since I left for Africa 20 years ago.

I refuse to be afraid anymore. I will be kind, but I will not be quiet.

I’m done playing safe, being silent, or dreaming small.

The wonder habit isn’t just about the wonder that whispers in the quiet moments, it’s about the wonder that is wild and the love that roars.

It’s not just about the beauty that presents itself as beautiful, but the beauty found in the broken pieces of dreams, even in the crevasses of our souls.

And y’all…. we have never needed this kind of wonder more.

Not a wishful wonder or a nice narrative.

Not a convenient kindness, because convenience and kindness could not be farther apart.

I’m not helpless and neither are you.

I’m not looking for a hero to save the day. But it’s days like these that produce everyday heroes who shape the course of conversations, communities, and even nations.

We can be those people.

Wonder isn’t just about making art with paint and ink, it’s about rooting ourselves so deeply into goodness and awe that we make art with our lives.

And I’m here to help you have the tools you need to do just that.

This isn’t only about art challenges and prompts, it’s about forging a way forward to build connection around joy and courage.

I don’t write about politics here, but love, goodness, truth, kindness, wonder, and awe… these things are inherently political.

Not political as in who you voted for, but political because they affect the way we see the world and the way we care for one another in it.

And that indeed can change our choices about a lot of things.

For years, I relegated wonder to being a personal practice of resilience.

And it is. It starts there. We cannot give what we do not have. But it mustn’t end there.

Wonder is also a transformational tool of resistance.

And c’mon you know we all root for the resistance and the unlikely heroes... our literary shelves are filled with their stories. Luke, Leia, Offred, Tris, Katniss, Harry.

I have yet to meet someone who is like, “Hi, I’m team Voldemort.”

Wonder resists disconnection and pushes back on things that try to separate us from ourselves, from one another, and from the world around us.

It does that through a framework of curiosity, connection, courage, creativity, and compassion.

Its resistance to disconnection shows up in:

• Our internal world… the way we see ourselves.

• Our interpersonal world… the way we see one another.

• Our interpretive world… the way we understand and move through the circumstances around us.

Wonder is also a call to love our neighbors and refuse to stop calling the people around us to a better story.

We are building resilience to face an uncertain future. Regardless of where that uncertainty lies.

Fellowship of the Fungi 🍄

I’ve been thinking a lot about mushrooms this last week and a half.

I call it the fellowship of the fungi because, I’m not sorry, but… my imagination immediately pictures Frodo and Samwise in mushroom hats.

And that cracks me up.

You’re welcome.

I also wanted an excuse to use this emoji 🍄.

Mushrooms have a rootlike network underground called mycelium.

Did you know that some of the rarest mushrooms only appear after a forest has experienced a wildfire?

This seems like an apt metaphor to hold onto in the moments your world feels like it’s burning. And… we all have those moments.

The interconnection of community relationships below the surface can give rise to new and beautiful things even in the wake of incredibly hard times.

Sometimes, even because of them.

I’m holding on to this for all of us.

Burn morel (Morchella spp.) mushrooms, or post-fire morels, are a prime example of something beautiful coming from a great disturbance. When an area of forest is burned, morels are able to grow prolifically all over the ground. Mycelium is the underground root-like part of a mushroom. The mycelium of burn morel mushrooms have a mutually beneficial relationship with roots of various types of trees. Underground their root systems of the trees and the mushrooms are intertwined. The mycelium may lay dormant for up to 50 years, only fruiting mushrooms after a fire comes through. - Walking Mountains

🍄 » Beloved, what if these are those times?

Maybe it’s an internal wildfire or a medical diagnosis. Perhaps it’s navigating a hard holiday season that has become even more complex.

Maybe it’s grieving the loss of friendships or broken family relationships. Perhaps, it is deep anxiety about what lies ahead.

You don’t have to do it alone. Reach out. Connect in the comments.

This is a safe place to be who you are.

Look for Where the Light Pours In

In the middle of history’s darkest nights of pain, loss, and grief, it’s long been the poets, artists, and creatives that rise to mend the broken places.

Afternoon light through lace curtains landing on the first painting I ever bought 13 years ago. I fell in love with it and purchasing it was a way to invest in a newer professional artist. Little did I know my own journey would lead me to become one!

Friends, WE can be those people in the world around us.

Sure, maybe we don’t have a way to directly impact things on a national, state, or, even a city level.

But we all can be kind to the clerk in our grocery store who rings us up. We can check in on our neighbors.

We can find small ways to forge connections in a time of deep disconnection.

The voices of bullies seeking to keep us small are loud. But the voice of the beloved can be so much louder.

Creativity itself is resistance.

Choosing kindness is rebellion.

Seeking beauty when it feels like life wants to crush the hope from our lungs is an act of defiance.

No king or circumstance gets to change who we are. Ever.

What if our darkest moments exist to reveal a sky full of stars?

In the coming days, we may need a whole chorus of voices to remind us to keep looking up.

Hang with me here. We’ll remind one another.

Where wonder grows wild and love roars, things start to shift and stories change.

And that is where movements that change history begin… With small, significant choices in everyday moments.

It needs to be real in us before it can be made real through us.

So that’s a bigger picture of what I dream about for our space here.

Be more creative.

Feel less alone.

Find wonder every day.

And dang it, change the freaking world.