I think wonder is something we’re born knowing how to find.
Leaves changing colors. Clouds that look like circus animals. Pockets full of pretty rocks, feathers, and other treasures. Cakes with lots of sprinkles, the man in the full moon, and wishing stars.
Somewhere along the way, though, we get busy.
We walk past things instead of stopping to look. We pack the fancy dishes away. We stop making things simply because it sounds fun. We become really good at getting through our days and, sometimes, a lot less good at actually noticing them.
I don’t think wonder disappears. I think we just have to remember to look for it.
It’s there, every second of every day. There’s magic. We just have to look.
For me, that means arranging flowers from the garden in an old vase from a friend. Fresh chocolate chip cookies when the kids come home from school. Setting the table on a Tuesday. Skipping down sidewalks and jumping in puddles. Watching the light on these old floors. Dancing in the kitchen. Taking the long way home because the sky is breathtaking.
That’s part of why I make things.
A cookie can just be a cookie. But it can also look like it came straight from a storybook and make a child’s eyes widen when they see it.
A table can simply be where dinner happens. Or you can light a few candles, use the good dishes, and it can become the place where the people you love gather and find each other.
Ordinary things can hold a surprising amount of magic when we give them our attention.
That’s the life I want to keep making room for.
Not one that is perfectly styled or endlessly beautiful. A real life. A messy kitchen. Flowers that wilt. Cakes that get eaten. Candles burned all the way down.
And tucked inside all of it, little moments worth noticing.
Wonder isn’t hiding. You just have to look.