The departure of wonder

On the lawn in front of me was a light sabre, some inattentive child had dropped and lost interest in. I had an impulsive desire to grab the lightsaber and cut the foes of the rebellion to ribbons. Only an impulse. I walked by.

I could have picked up the lightsaber to fight invisible enemies. But I am a middle age adult. We don't do that. Besides I know there is no unseen enemy that would respond to that threat. And it feels just plain silly.

As a child, wonder was a part of my daily life. Now it's getting as stiff as my back when I stand after sitting for a while. It's hard to be inspired by rhetoric anymore, because that is what I feel it is. I listen to politicians attempting to inspire, I listen to music that attempts to move me, I sit in church and see those around me raising their hands in worship. Mine stays stoically by my side. I'm suspicious of wonder these days.

When wonder gets up and leaves the room, it is usually cynicism that hurries to sit in the chair. And once it sits, it is very difficult to get the chair back again.