What Poetry Teaches Us About Wonder (Hint: It's Not What You Think)

Evelyn Reed · 2026-11-07

There's a particular kind of attention that poetry asks for. Not the frantic scanning we do all day, but something slower. Something that lingers. When I sat down to think through what poet Maya C. Popa has to say about attention, uncertainty, and staying curious, I kept coming back to one idea: wonder isn't a luxury. It's a practice. And honestly? That reframe changed how I think about mindful living. ### Wonder Isn't Something You Wait For Most of us treat wonder like weather. It shows up or it doesn't. You hike to a mountaintop, you see a sunset, you feel something. But Popa's work suggests the opposite. Wonder is something you *cultivate*. It's a muscle you build by paying attention on purpose, even when nothing dramatic is happening. Think about the last time you really looked at something ordinary. A crack in the sidewalk. The way steam curls off your coffee. That's the territory poetry lives in. ### Uncertainty as a Doorway, Not a Threat Here's where it gets interesting. Popa talks about uncertainty not as a problem to solve, but as a place to stand. In a culture that rewards certainty and quick answers, that's almost radical. - Uncertainty keeps you asking better questions - It slows the reflex to judge or categorize - It leaves room for surprise, which is where wonder actually lives When you stop needing to know how everything turns out, you start noticing what's right in front of you. That's not passive. It's a discipline. ### The Art of Remaining Curious Curiosity sounds easy until you try it on a Tuesday afternoon when nothing feels new. Popa's approach isn't about chasing novelty. It's about returning to the same things with fresh eyes. The same walk. The same person. The same question. > "Attention is the beginning of devotion." That line, often attributed to the poet Mary Oliver, captures what Popa circles around: what you pay attention to, you begin to care for. For mindful living professionals, this is practical gold. You're not teaching people to escape their lives. You're helping them re-enter them. ### What This Means for Your Practice If you work in mindfulness, well-being, or contemplative education, poetry offers a low-stakes entry point. You don't need a meditation cushion or a silent retreat. You need a poem and five minutes. - Read a short poem aloud and notice what catches your attention - Ask what surprised you, not what it "means" - Sit with one line for a full minute without analyzing it - Let confusion be part of the process That last point matters. We're so trained to decode and interpret that we skip right past the experience. Poetry invites us to stay in the not-knowing a little longer. ### The Takeaway Wonder isn't reserved for artists and mystics. It's available in the ordinary moments of your day, if you're willing to slow down enough to notice. Popa's work is a reminder that curiosity is a practice, uncertainty is a companion, and attention is the whole game. So the next time you feel the urge to rush past something small, pause. That pause might be the most mindful thing you do all day.