Where Did My Wonder Go?
It’s only through curiosity that creativity can flourish.
I know why I’ve been feeling stuck — why the words, which used to flow so freely, have seemingly dried up and left me with a riverbed full of fish skeletons.
Fortunately, I’ve been able to pull a small amount of creativity, scraping the bottom of the barrel so to speak, in order to write a short story and tap out a couple dozen words for my novel. But, somehow, it feels kind of empty.
I know why my fingers itch to create, but I can’t seem to pull any inspiration out of my well of creativity.
My sense of wonder, which I spent so long cultivating and nourishing to save my mental health in the face of anxiety, has been left to dwindle.
For one, I left my job as a dog walker. A job that had me outside for hours at a time, experiencing all the seasons in their most beautiful and brutal forms. I saw the first buds on the trees, the first signs of flowers in the spring, the thunderstorms in summer, and the lush colours in the fall. And I experienced it all watching the wonder and joy of a dog.
If you ever want to see pure joy, watch a dog playing in the first snow of the season.
That’s where I learned to cultivate my wonder. My curiosity. Under the sun and the clouds and the rain and the snow.
Nature is where I fill my cup. Nature is where my soul is nourished.
However, my new job is in a windowless office. I mean, it’s a great job and I really enjoy what I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that my office is severely lacking in outside light.
It’s only for four hours a day. So, what’s the problem?
When exposure to nature isn’t an inherent part of my routine, how do I find it?
I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.
The habit, which had once been an integral part of my life, has stopped being a habit. And it’s been very hard to pick it up again.
And, maybe that’s the thing. It’s easy to sit in my windowless office, come home, and sit…