There’s this one quote in my forthcoming book that I simply adore. It came at the end of a phone interview with awe researcher Dacher Keltner, a psychology professor at UC Berkeley. He was taking a walk outside as we talked:
How do you find awe? he said to me. You allow unstructured time. How do you find awe? You wander. You drift through. You take a walk with no aim. How do you find awe? You slow things down. You allow for mystery and open questions rather than test-driven answers. You allow people to engage in the humanities of dance and visual art and music.
I am writing this post from the sky. Our family is returning from a trip to St. Croix that we’ve been planning for two decades. During our honeymoon, my husband and I joked that maybe we’d come back with our as-yet-nonexistent children for our 20th anniversary. And so we did. [And now it’s done. Time is so weird!]
I am not an exemplary wanderer. I am a planner. When the TSA agent told me today that he wished all passengers were like me, his job would be so much easier, I practically beamed. So this detail about awe-seeking — that it is often found in the wandering, the drifting through, the walk with no aim — is not my natural state of being.
Creative Downtime
And yet the messages kept coming for me.
Shortly after speaking with Dr. Keltner, I was chatting with Michael Roberto, a business professor and author of “Unlocking Creativity.” I knew he’d have solid parenting insights because I happened to teach his daughter several years ago — and she simply radiated creativity, curiosity, and wonder.
Roberto also used the term wander when talking about wonder and creativity. When we wander, he said, we are doing something outside of our routine. Our children’s days are often incredibly routinized—wake up, go to school, attend afterschool activities, do homework, go to bed. Obviously, routines are important for kids! But when we do something spontaneous—like exploring a new park or a new neighborhood in the city—Roberto says we are more likely to “spot something novel, and novelty spurs the brain; seeing incredible creations sparks our minds to develop original ideas.”
He even cautioned me to avoid overprogramming family trips, “leaving downtime in order to make room for novelty.”
A few months after that conversation, we took the kids to California for the first time. Did I take Roberto’s advice? NOPE! I had artfully scripted the week’s itinerary, and that itinerary took us to an aquarium at 1 p.m. on a Monday afternoon.
When we arrived, the place was overrun with school groups. You had to walk sideways just to make it through the lobby. We quickly abandoned the aquarium, leaving a three-hour hole in our schedule. Time to wander. We decided to go explore a nearby beach trail. We had no idea what to expect, so when we stumbled upon slumbering sea lions, we all gasped. Soon the kids were exploring tide pools and naming the sea lions. It was a beautiful day.
Which Brings Me Back to This Trip
As I announced to my family several times over the last several months, I did NOT overprogram this trip. I made essential plans! I booked a snorkling tour and made a few meal reservations (many of which we canceled because we wandered into something else we wanted to try).
Because we had the time, we said yes when a taxi driver offered to go a scenic route and tell us about the history of the island (I’m begging you to look up The Four Queens of St. Croix — they literally “burned it down”).
We were delighted by fire dancers. We took morning walks and sunset hikes and touched palm trees and listened to the trill of bananaquits. And moments before we left for the airport today, this radiant creature suddenly showed up on our deck and just . . . hung out.
I’m going to stop planning. A good itinerary and spreadsheet soothe me. It’s just that I’ll also keep reminding myself sometimes the best stuff happens when you just . . . wander.
Yours,
Deborah
P.S.
In preparation for the release of “Raising Awe-Seekers: How the Science of Wonder Helps Our Kids Thrive,” I’m keeping an awe diary: One entry each day about something that caught my attention, gave me goosebumps, brought tears to my eyes, or made me say, “Wow.”
365 Days of Wonder: Week 7
Day 43:
In a 20-minute span last night, four different friends texted to check in. We all have at least one sick kid right now, and this circling up to support — even via a quick text — is a beautiful thing. ❤️Check in on your friends and neighbors! It’s February and we are all feeling it.
Day 44:
You know that sound when snowmelt meanders down the road and splashes into the storm drain? I know it’ll freeze over again tonight, but today that lovely sound reminded me that spring is almost here.
Day 45:
During our honeymoon trip to St Croix, we joked that maybe we’d come back with our as-yet-nonexistent children for our 20th anniversary. And here we are, 20 years later, at the same hotel looking at the same view, this time with two amazing kids in tow.
Day 46:
Witnessed something have never seen before: fire dancing. Utterly mesmerizing.
Day 47:
Look what found me on my walk today?
Day 48:
Remember the double-rainbow guy from the early days of YouTube — his raw joy and tears over the wonder of pure color arching through the sky? I saw this today and thought of him.
Day 49:
My kid stopped to take a photo on the way to dinner. We were running a bit late, so I almost rushed her. Thank goodness I didn’t. Because look: