There was a period in my life when I read nonfiction almost exclusively for multiple years in a row. I felt starved for knowledge and behind the curve on what I wanted to understand, so I responded with a frantic scramble to take in as much information in as short a span as possible to catch up. There was not enough time to learn it all, so I had to cram it all in to “get full.” However, as time wore on I began to realize that of course I don’t have time to learn everything I want to know. Nobody does. Gradually, reluctantly, I have learned to slow down since then. I am learning to take greater joy in the process: no longer scarfing down knowledge like someone who’s been starved, but learning at the pace of wisdom instead.
This year I have read less nonfiction and have spent more time reaching for books that invite a sense of wonder or coziness. Over 70% of my reads so far this year have been fiction. About half of those are books that I’ve read before — one of them was a favorite from 2024, and several are familiar favorites that I have not picked up in decades.
Still going small
Earlier this year I posted about a growing pull in my soul toward going small. If you’re interested, you can check that out here, but the TLDR version is that we can feel overwhelmed when we look at the world’s big problems, but an antidote for despair can be taking on something small in our own little corner. That small dedication may help some of the big problems go smaller, too.
The small, practical things can often ground us when the world spins out of control.
This orientation toward wonder and smallness has had other effects, too. I feel less compelled to weigh in on every hot topic and less pressure to know and understand it all. It’s not that I am no longer engaged in the world around me, but rather that my engagement style has shifted. Fewer people see the work I am doing to “seek the welfare of my city,”1 and I feel less internal pressure to share my thoughts online as often as I was prone to do in the past.
I have found that when we recapture the wonder and beauty of small things, rather than relentless striving after the big things, something inside of us finds a measure of healing. Whether it’s Samwise Gamgee showing us the strength of faithfulness or Anne Shirley reminding us how wonderful it is to discover beauty in nature or in shared laughs with a friend among “the race who knows Joseph,” wonder gives us something to draw from when our spiritual wells run dry. It reminds us that there’s some good in the world, and it’s worth fighting for. 2
I hope you are making space this summer for whatever helps you find that wonder for yourself. And please do send your reading recommendations my way.
In the spirit of Jeremiah 29
In the words of our dear Samwise, brilliantly living up to his name.
I have realized wonder is needed after having children. They have endless wonder and it has helped me rediscover the wonder in small things. Thanks for writing!