A picture taken during my family trip to Chicago of the fabled Sue.
Rediscovering Wonder
K.L. Orion
I still remember walking up to the skeleton of a monster all those years ago. I can’t remember how old I was, though I do recall that I was very young. At the time, I probably barely stood higher than my father’s waist, if even that. And perhaps that is what made this experience so much more exhilarating. My parents had taken my brothers and I to see the remains of an ancient behemoth who died an incomprehensible amount of time ago. Of course, I am talking about a dinosaur; and it wasn’t just any dinosaur.
The science center in my area was hosting a colossal event. A cast of the famed Tyrannosaurus rex Sue was on display in the main hall. The bones were not real, of course; the actual skeleton was and still is on display at the Chicago Field Museum. Still, for children all around the Des Moines area, a cast was more than good enough. Dinosaur skeletons aren’t exactly on display much in Iowa, leaving Iowa dinosaur nerds of all ages thirsting for events such as this. Dinosaur-loving children such as myself were ecstatic given the chance to see a life-sized model of one of these beasts.
Tyrannosaurs were gargantuan animals. The largest terrestrial carnivores now include creatures such as tigers and polar bears, but none of those even compare to the titanic tyrannosaurus. At around forty feet long and twelve feet tall, these giants dwarf any modern land animal. They had huge heads that could be nearly as long as a man is tall, full of sharp teeth that could grow nearly a foot long. Anything and everything about these mysterious monsters from a long forgotten era could inspire awe in the eyes of children. And it is safe to say I was certainly awestruck.
My memory of the event is unfortunately a little vague, but what I do remember is fantastical. Since I was far smaller, I remember the tyrannosaur being far larger than it actually was. My young brain made the beast probably a hundred feet long in my memory. It was absolutely massive, towering above the hordes of visitors who gathered around it. To my little kid mind, this was a genuine monster of incredible proportions, leaving me completely dumbstruck at the thought of such a huge creature ever existing.
It couldn’t have been more than a few years later that my family and I actually got the opportunity to see the actual Sue in Chicago. I had just turned eight when we went on a trip to the Windy City. We had many incredible experiences on this adventure, but my whole trip was mounting up to this one moment. As we entered the main hall of the Field Museum, there it was in all its spectacular glory. The skeleton of an actual Tyrannosaurus rex.
Now, almost exactly eight years later, I find myself drifting back to that moment. Unfortunately, my middle school and early high school years nearly sucked the wonder out from me. I’ve recently found that I’ve lost joy in the world. As a matter of fact, I’ve already become quite bored and bitter of it. Needless to say, growing up changed me. I got caught up in politics, drama, arguments, conflicts, trying to fit in, trying to stand out, trying to make a change, and just general problems that made me disheartened and spiteful of the world I live in. I lost my amusement in it entirely. This turned me to fiction, where I thought everything was better than in real life. Everything was more wondrous in fiction.
But recently I’ve realized that there’s truth in the old saying, “Truth is stranger than fiction.” As a matter of fact, fiction doesn’t even compare to how strange reality is. I’ve remembered the child-like wonder I felt when I was, well, a child. How incredible and exciting everything was. Now, I’ve been trying to rediscover that wonder, and one way I’ve been doing that is by remembering that forty foot long reptilian monsters used to exist. But I think the most wondrous thing about them is the fact that they are not monsters but animals, just like me. They walked on the same planet as I do now. They inhabited a long forgotten world that eventually became the world I live in now. They were once alive, just like me. They were real, just like me. They fill me with wonder. Now, dear reader, ask yourself, “What inspires wonder in me?”
But what good does wonder do? Will it solve world hunger? Will it stop climate change in its tracks? Will it give everyone equal rights? I don’t believe it will solve any of those problems directly, but it will send us on the right track. Allow me to explain. Wonder, at least for me, is the best way to humble myself. It gives me a sense of a higher purpose or at least something above me, whether that be a god or even literally just an animal bigger than me. What it does is it breaks down any sense of self entitlement I have. It forces me to realize I am not the center of the universe. Rather, it shows me that I am only a part of a far larger and fantastical system.
I walk around in a world full of “main characters”. Every day, I interact with numerous people who act like the world revolves around them. They go about their lives acting as if we’re all side characters in their show, or if we’re all NPCs (non-player characters) in their video game. Then they treat everyone like that, as if nobody else matters. They respect no one but themselves. This self entitlement usually leads them to being jerks to everybody else. They treat no one decently. And when they treat other “main characters” like this, you can probably imagine the kinds of drama it spawns.
And then there’s the bitterness. Oh, the bitterness. The world is messed up, no doubt about that. But a mistake many people make is thinking that the whole world is terrible. That’s a mistake I still make, even with this philosophy. Our hatred for the world makes us lose any sense of joy related to it. That makes us depressed, which leads to more bitterness, which leads to more anger. Next thing you know, between self entitlement and bitterness, you have more problems than you can count. Everyone is angry at each other and doesn’t have the respect to attempt to be nice about it.
Wonder kills that. In a world full of “main characters” and sour people, we could all use a little more humility. It inspires joy and humbleness that few other things in life can give. It destroys barricades you’ve set up between you and the rest of the world. It makes you happy and fills you with awareness. Joy and humility are two of the most important ingredients to building a kinder world. Joy and humility are two things that will be necessary to erase bigotry and injustice. Joy and humility are two components necessary for a good and fair society to survive.
So next time you are out and about adulting, friend, stop and take time to smell the roses. Or march right into the nearest museum and look at the skeletons and artifacts of things from ancient times. Or look out at the wide open expanse of the ocean and just soak it in. Or look up to the stars and deep void of space and realize just how much is truly out there. Find whatever makes you feel wonder, be it dinosaurs or dragonflies, and cling onto it. Embrace it. Bask in it. Bask in it like a plant absorbing sunlight. Let it return you to the wonder you forgot about when you were a child. Don’t hate the world. Don’t lose hope in the world. Why save something you despise? Rather, find what you love in the world. Acknowledge the problems, but remember the wonder. You have to learn to love the world if you want to save it.
Loved this - and I need that message because the wonder has definitely been tarnished lately. Thank you.
Just finished this post. Thankful tears. Though so much is messed up and feels most of the time simply utterly dire, I still say it nearly every day….” The kids are alright”…..and I mean that in the most loving, most appreciative way. Thanks for reminding that the world seen through eyes of a younger person is the salve and the hope the rest of us seniors truly need. So glad I found your Substack through Robert Leonard’s recommendation.