Make room for amazement in your life

I was playing with my 3-year-old granddaughter this past week. We were in the kitchen and she started talking about the party she suddenly decided we were going to make. It was going to take place on the kitchen table alongside the cute Lego build we had recently finished.

She became progressively more animated as she detailed who was going to come to the party — the people in her dollhouse, Mickey and his pals, the kids from the school bus, the farmer and his animals. She listed the chairs and sofas and tables we would have to import from the playroom. And, of course, we would need "accessories." The two toy helicopters would be enlisted to make deliveries. And there would be dancing.

"It's going to be amazing," she said, with a joy that was fierce and pure.

And it stopped me.

You can learn a lot — and be reminded of a lot more — by listening to little ones. 

There are many ways to measure the richness of a life. Tallying the times you are amazed at something is a good one.

Amazement is underrated. It lacks the transcendence of awe but offers the same opportunity for contemplation. It is not as quiet, more in your face and ephemeral, but it is powerful. It can transport and uplift you in an instant.

Albert Einstein, who believed in the power of mystery and the importance of confronting it, said that a person "who does not know it and can no longer wonder, no longer feel amazement, is as good as dead, a snuffed out candle."

Rare is the day you cannot find something in your life that is amazing. But having the capacity to be amazed is not enough. You also have to be willing to be amazed, open to feeling amazement. Why does that sometimes seem so difficult these days?

It's hard to be amazed when you're busy being jaded. Hard to be surprised when you've seen and heard everything. Hard to swell with emotion when your shtick is worldly detachment. Hard to radiate exuberance when you've worked so hard to rein in your feelings.

Little ones haven't learned that yet. They don't know that it's cool to be unruffled. For them, so much of life is amazing and their lives are richer for that.

Evocations are everywhere.

Primatologist and conservationist Jane Goodall died a few days ago after a life marked by startling discoveries about her beloved chimpanzees, repeatedly sparking amazement in the world of science and in all of us. 

How much more fulfilling and enjoyable would the Ryder Cup have been had fans rooted ardently for the home team while also being amazed at the quality of golf being played by both sides on the Bethpage Black course?

My soon-to-be 94-year-old aunt is regularly amazed — by the kindnesses shown her by those who know her and by complete strangers. There is a reason she is about to turn 94, a reason why her candle still burns brightly.

In nature and in ourselves, amazement abounds if we care to recognize it and let it transform us, as my granddaughter did so viscerally.

That evening, my wife and I went for our usual walk in the neighborhood. We did our usual thing, up two blocks, over one block, back down two blocks, over another block, and so on. At one point, we made our final turn to head back home, walking due west, and there before us was a magnificent sunset, the kind that leaves you yearning for broader vistas than we typically have on Long Island.

The sky right above the trees and power lines was a brilliant orange, and on its flanks were long strips of pink and orange, paler but no less beautiful. It was riveting and it was fleeting.

And yes, it was amazing.

Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.

By Michael Dobie

michael.dobie1@newsday.commwdobie

Michael Dobie is a retired member of the Newsday editorial board.