Last night, I watched Artemis II return to our atmosphere and splash down in the Pacific Ocean and was struck by a sense of awe. I knew in that moment that I had just witnessed, in real time, a defining event of my lifetime: a notably positive milestone amid a timeline of disasters, wars, and cultural shifts.
My mouth gaped as I saw the space capsule Orion plunge toward Earth at incredible speeds. My body tensed as communications went dark, and my heart raced with fear, contemplating the possibilities of another disaster: Images of The Challenger disaster, which I had witnessed live on television, filled my mind. Then, though, communication was restored, and my heart was buoyed as each parachute shot to the sky, softening the capsule’s fall. As Orion successfully touched down and, ultimately, pictures of glowing astronauts clad in orange space suits circulated, I felt immense joy and amazement, marveling at the scientific intelligence the feat had required. The event also underscored how miraculous Apollo 11’s moon landing had been in 1969, fifty-seven years ago. What I savored in that moment was a rare shared joy among Americans, if not the world.
While this cosmic spectacle was a fleeting moment, wonder is more accessible than we might realize. In search of wonder, many of us travel back to our childhoods to recapture a magical Christmas, an evening around a campfire, or an inspiring work of art, natural or manmade. In reality, though, wonder is all around us: in the birth of a child, the majesty of a mountain, the glow of a huge, orange moon low on the horizon, and, right now, the speedy growth of peonies. That big orange moon stopped conversation during my recent drive to relatives last weekend. It consumed the sky, dwarfing the landscape sprawled below it and creating an iridescent glow. Because wonder is deeply linked with joy and can calm anxieties, we all need to cultivate a sense of wonder. Doing so is a path to a better understanding of self.
Yet our children’s sense of wonder, if not our own, is often thwarted by the rushed world in which we live – a world that focuses on screen time, testing, and overpacked schedules. Unstructured play time is scarce; quiet, contemplative moments nearly nonexistent. Perhaps with intentionality, we can encourage and nurture a sense of wonder.
I hope you will share in the joy that I experienced last night. If you did not watch the splashdown in real time, please consider doing so with your children, and take a walk outdoors with them, too, to soak up the abundant azaleas and dogwoods that paint our neighborhoods. Doing so may bring you closer to your children than you expect and give them a moment to reflect and wonder about what brings them peace.