Learning to Be Astonished

I have seasonal affective disorder. It hits most people in the winter, but for me, I am smitten in spring, when my desire to spend all my time outdoors with the flowers in the garden affects my ability to get my work done. The answer to this problem is clear. I need to redefine what my work is, as Mary Oliver does in her poem, Messenger: “My work is to love the world.” She goes on to say, “Let me keep my mind on what matters, / which is my work, / which is mostly standing still and learning to be / astonished.”

Something I saw recently that astonished me was a macroscopic photo of the face of an ant. It has what appears to be small horns and needle-like teeth and pores in its skin and whiskers, of all things. I never would have known with what care God fashioned an ant’s face if someone hadn’t looked at it closely and shared it. It is easy for us to be swept up in God’s grandeur in mountains, storms, and ocean swells, but God is just as present to us in diminutive things — seeds and grains of pollen and ant’s faces.

It is perhaps the most important item on our daily “To Do” list — to stand still and learn to be astonished — because it generates reverence and peace, which is a great need in our world today. So don’t worry if you have seasonal affective disorder; it may turn out to be one of the greatest blessings of your life!