Returning To My Wonder Journal

"Wonder - is not precisely Knowing" Emily Dickinson

In my last post, I wrote about how I had not written an entry in my wonder journal since October. Wonder had been my word for 2024. It was something that I had focused on but found, with the state of the world (an election, a genocide, the terrors and tragedies, our abuse of the natural world), that I had struggled deeply to find any sense of wonder. I posted about it daily on social media, but found that I felt hollow of the very thing I was proclaiming so continuously.

With the new year, I awakened that first morning in 2025, by getting up and making myself a cup of coffee. I looked out the window at the sunlight and the birds at my feeders: Cardinals, Black-capped Chickadees, a Tufted Titmouse, some Wrens. Taking my mug, I sat on my sofa and read poetry: Denise Levertov and Emily Dickinson. The latter I have been reading through her complete poems for some time. What I realized with this morning routine was there were no small moments when one is present to them.

This morning, before church, I returned to Levertov and Dickinson. Levertov’s poetry and Dickinson’s letters. Belief and doubt. Two sides of the same coin. I am both, often in the same moment.