Envision the world like a child. In the eyes if a child is the wonder of many firsts. Etched inside is our first smile, first walk, first word, first laugh.
Like a young wild plant, wonder flourishes, it thrives in the temporary facade it lives. Then the real world appears, and wonder withers.
Burned by our first cry, first rejection, first loss, first heartbreak.
We decide to grow up, trade our innocence for experience, our imaginations for constant repeating sameness.
We forget the burnt particles of our wilted wonder are magical seeds waiting for a stimulus to make them sprout alive again.
We forget that the ability to be amazed is immortal and never dying, it lies dormant but only a drink from an elixir made up of our hope and hard work can revitalize.
We forget that the thin subtle line between success and wealth is that intense blazing desire to know, the will to inscribe our names in the arrow of time forever.
Wonder is a fractured bone and only if we allow what’s been broken be mended, only then can we dream, create believe, see, taste and feel the beauty, be awed at the mystery and redeem the curiosity of the wonder in the child in all of us.