The Jewish writer, thinker, theologian, and activist Abraham Joshua Heschel said after suffering a major heart attack:
“Never once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom or power or fame. I asked for wonder, and he gave it to me.”
One of the driving forces of The Art of Paying Attention is finding universal truth in the particular. I share quotes, insights, ideas, stories, and other things I find interesting from a diverse well of sources.
This is intentional.
In the particular stories, insights, writings, experiences of others, and the various cultural artifacts we encounter every day are universal truths. I believe All Truth is God’s Truth. If we learn to pay attention, we’ll find truth hidden in corners of the experience we’re having called life often in the most unlikely places.
You might find a particular story in a film rooted in the fight for justice moving and universal as we seek to love all peoples. Perhaps from a more obvious source, like an ancient text such as the Bible, you find the Parable of the Lost Sons speaking to the grace and love we all desire. And then, you may be listening to a podcast discussing the movie Big and remember the story is about the pitfalls of when adults lose their awe and wonder.
I’m not suggesting sacred texts and pop culture are on the same level of importance. But if Truth is everywhere, may God give us eyes to see.
Back to Heschel. There are two reasons I shared his quote above. One, it stopped me in my tracks about fifteen years ago when I read it. I had been chasing fame, power, and making a name for myself, while losing the vital ingredient for a life well lived:
wonder.
Second, I believe wonder is the dancing partner of curiosity and the key for a deeper life, and better art. Abraham Joshua Heschel is a remarkable man, thinker, professor, writer, philosopher, and activist. He marched with King during the Civil Rights movements in the 60s. Wrote classic books on philosophy, the spiritual life, and how to craft a life well lived.
And yet, on his deathbed, what he asked for in life had nothing to do with obvious external success. He said,
“I asked for wonder, and he gave it to me.”
Wonder and curiosity are the portal into the spiritual life. If you never ask what is this experience we’re having, why are we here, what is my life about, what’s with all the evil and hate, why do we seek love despite getting our hearts broken at every turn, and how will the wrongs ever be made right… we might not be paying attention.
Wonder and curiosity are also the portal into better art and creativity. Somewhere about late high school, maybe sooner, we lose some of the wonder of life. Life gets serious and becomes about getting graded, going to college, getting jobs, and having serious relationships. Nothing wrong with these things, per se.
But that wonder of writing a poem, story, or making a drawing of giraffes is no longer encouraged. It’s often despised. The days of play and curiosity are discouraged for important things like passing ACT’s and SAT’s and getting in our community service hours to show colleges we’re decent humans.
Everything we do becomes about rewards and material blessing. Nothing is done for the sheer joy of it.
Like I mentioned earlier, if you want to experience a meditation on the dangers of losing awe, wonder, and curiosity, go watch the 80s film Big. Tom Hanks plays a teenager who wants to be “big.” He gets his wish after pumping money into a carnival game that gives out wishes. In the film, you see the devastation and implications of losing wonder.
Hanks is around these jaded adults who have lost the wonder of life. They live within a narrative of rules not allowing for play and fun. Compare this to the teenager trapped in an adult body who only knows wonder and curiosity. Hanks lives in the moment and does what brings him joy. He lives in an apartment with a trampoline, arcade game, and Pepsi machine.
Big is what happens when adults get consumed with living for the stories of others. What the culture or parents or religious communities determine is true success, and what a life well lived looks like. Typically these narratives involve fame, power, money, and accumulating stuff.
Not many people are encouraged in the pursuit of wonder. Few of us will get to the end of our lives and say,
“I asked for wonder, and God gave it to me.”
Ironically, this ask is where the juice resides for a deeper spiritual life, and creative life. In Rick Rubin’s new book The Creative Act: A Way of Being, he says this about wonder:
“As artists, we seek to restore our childlike perception: a more innocent state of wonder and appreciation not tethered to utility or survival.” (26)
The fact Rubin has to say, “restore our childlike perception,” suggests something is lost. Most of us, including myself, have lost a state of wonder and appreciation for this thing we call life. We have bought into the faulty narrative of utility and survival and economics. When it becomes about the Benjamin’s, the loss of wonder is not far behind.
The good news is these conversations around wonder are not a recent phenomenon. I recall Jesus of Nazareth had much to say about the “childlike perception” for life and art. There is a moment in the gospels when the disciples are arguing about who is the greatest in the Kingdom. Jesus answers:
“Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” -Matthew 18:2-4
Jesus is identifying a fundamental problem in our lives and the world. We often live under a faulty story of a successful life having to do with power, material blessings, and wealth. Jesus reaches for a child and makes a counter-point. Actually, a life well lived is about becoming like a child who has none of these things.
The antidote for Jesus in “restoring our childlike perception” is not puffing out our chests, being a know-it-all, and seeking power wherever it’s found. For Jesus, it’s becoming a child.
Children are humble by default. They cling to parents and loved ones for food, care, and love. Children don’t bring experience or a resume into the world. But what they bring, and what we need a heavy dose of, is awe and wonder.
Daddy, look a bug. Daddy, how are babies made? Dad, a train. Dad, thank you, and I love.
A child knows their existence is a gift. They live for the moment with eyes wide open. Jesus says we need to become like that. These are the truly great ones in my world.
When we lose wonder… we lose everything.
Our lives and art depend on reclaiming some of that “childlike perception.” How we get it is another post.
But I think it begins with the spirit of Heschel.
Just ask...