Woodpeckers and Wonder

Sadly, I couldn’t get a clear shot of her beautiful markings

I am currently entertaining a family of woodpeckers that regularly visit my terrace. I've always been a regular bird watcher and avid fan, and I’m lucky that my living space affords me a prime viewing spot where I try to accommodate the locals with appropriate plants, plus sugar and seed nosh. These sizeable beauties come for the blue berries on the vine climbing my terrace wall. No matter how many times I see the woodpeckers, I inadvertently gasp in delight. Nature has rewarded me for paying attention by showing me something special. I try to honor their arrival by observing in silent wonder, perfecting my stealth in order to get as close as possible without them fleeing.

Wonder is a state that seems to be slowly drifting away from our daily life. One reason is that in our modern, slightly cynical world, Google makes it easy to quell wonder and replace it with facts and information. Singer Tom Waits, believes we have a "deficit of wonder". Waits is an infamous internet shunner, proclaiming it has snuffed the wonder out of life by providing us a lazy out. There is no pondering, no debate, no, hmm...only satisfaction that our brain doesn't have to reach too far. Remember when we traveled to a place and saw it with our eyes for the first time, and not on Google or Youtube? We want to know everything immediately (if not before) and indeed, the world now has "friends" like Google, Siri and Alexa (and now, AI) to provide all of the answers. But nothing too deep. We are satisfied with a rudimentary explanation and often, move on without ever contemplating meaning, associations, connections, consequences. People now writing with AI are spared any middleman research. But isn't "wondering" through research (however you define that) where actual learning and insight occur? Of course, it's possible to dig deeper into the internet, but most of us don't get that far.

With our attention simultaneously fixed and scattered, we have become in some ways as programmed as the AI bots now infiltrating our world. On Instagram, the worlds of art and literature often boil everything down to trend and trivia and a list of ten ways to deal with any of life's problems. The internet has taught us that we don't have time to wonder.

We most tend to associate wonder with children, because young children are fascinated by just about everything; they have yet to be numbed and jaded into adulthood. Every parent has suffered through the why? period of a four year old. But "why" is a high level inquiry for a four year old. Adults seem to lose this inquiry as we age or as in popular theory these days, we are educated out of it by a system that by and large, doesn't value in-depth investigation.

There are of course, many times when we need "just the facts". And Google is ever ready on that front. Wisdom and wonder seem to be relegated to ancient sages and four year olds respectively. But aside from taking part in Buddhist retreats for days at a time, (or unless you have a four-year old) where do people go when they want to find true wisdom these days? There are so many Instagram and YouTube prophets, (even trusted Buddhist teachers have channels) but in an age of super guru-ism, usually that wisdom comes with a price tag.

I am no internet shunner like Waits, but being old-school to some degree, I still look to philosophers, artists and poets for wisdom. But for me nature, hands-down corners the market on wonder because it is so...incredibly...wondrous. Calling David Attenborough! Do I think those woodpeckers are delivering some kind of wisdom on their morning visits? Absolutely. Socrates believed that "wisdom begins with wonder". The birds' arrival allows me to stop and be quiet. Simply watching in silence is one of the hallmarks of wonder. Wonder generates questions and if we're lucky, leads to some kind of invention. All the best thinkers connect the dots or traverse them in order to arrive at something new.

This kind of insight requires some awareness, and giving over a little time. Something no one ever has enough of. Not like four-year olds. I have a clear memory from childhood, of laying in the grass on a summer day watching ants "work" for hours. Nature created a little video for me before video was even a thing.

But now, silent observation (in my observation) has become a radical act. Radical because you don't need anything special or techy to participate. Just your senses. Even if you are missing one of those, you can still tune into the world. How often do we remember to sit and observe the world? I think artists and writers do this well, because it's part of our job in a way. Curiosity and wonder are both what motivate me to paint and write. Silent observation rewards us with space to dream, an essential tool for artists and writers. For most people, to sit and do “nothing" seems a waste of time. But in fact, in sitting quietly we are never doing nothing. The bare-naked world is more fascinating than the average person gives it credit for.

The woodpeckers restore my sense of wonder and remind me of the open-ended gift that nature bestows to anyone who would pay attention. While wonder starts a dialog and can lead to a string of discoveries, it doesn't necessarily need to provide answers. “Inexplicable” is part of wonder’s definition.This can also apply to the way we experience art. For me, there doesn't need to be a conclusion or to know the artist's specific meaning, but only to be left visually excited, and with a deeper respect for the mystery of the world and all of the things we will never understand about it.

But I also understand that conclusions make some people feel more secure in their knowledge.

Along with its egalitarian environment, the Insta-art world seems to have also come with a need to dissect all art into a knowable and relatable story: But what is it about? everyone wants to know. Except Tom Waits. He knows that wonder is nature 's and art's superpower. Like Tom, I prefer my art and nature with a side of mystery. In our Google-fueled age of easy answers, I try to rely on what my poet friend, Helen says when she encourages me to edit a line out of a poem: Let the reader do more work. In other words, let them wonder.