What Poetry Teaches Us About Wonder (and Paying Attention)

Emily Johnson · 2026-11-07

What if wonder isn't something you chase, but something you simply notice? That's the thread running through a recent conversation with poet Maya C. Popa, who writes about attention, uncertainty, and the quiet art of staying curious. Her take is refreshingly simple: poetry doesn't hand you wonder. It trains you to spot it. So I sat with that idea for a while. Here's what stood out, and how it might change the way you move through an ordinary Tuesday. ### Attention Is the Whole Game Popa keeps returning to attention as the heart of the craft. A poem asks you to slow down and look at one thing longer than feels comfortable. That's it. No grand revelation required. The same move works outside poetry. When you give a single moment your full focus, it tends to open up. The steam off your coffee. The way someone's voice softens when they're tired. Wonder lives in those small, undefended places. ### Uncertainty Isn't the Enemy We're trained to treat not-knowing as a problem to fix fast. Popa flips that. She treats uncertainty as fertile ground, the place where real curiosity grows. Think about it. If you already know how something ends, you stop paying attention. Poetry keeps you in the middle of things, still asking. That's uncomfortable, sure. But it's also where aliveness lives. ### Three Small Practices to Borrow From Poetry You don't need to write a line of verse to use any of this. Try these: - **Look at one thing for 60 seconds.** Pick something ordinary and stay with it. Watch your mind try to leave. - **Write down one question a day.** Not to answer it. Just to keep it warm. - **Read a poem out loud once a week.** The rhythm slows your breathing and your thinking at the same time. ### The Curiosity Habit Here's the part that stuck with me most. Popa suggests curiosity isn't a personality trait some lucky people are born with. It's a habit. You practice it, and it grows. That's quietly hopeful. It means wonder isn't reserved for poets or monks or people with more time on their hands. It's available to anyone willing to pay attention on purpose. As she puts it, the goal isn't to have all the answers. It's to stay in the question a little longer. > "Wonder isn't a destination. It's what happens when you stop rushing past your own life." So the next time you feel the urge to scroll past a moment, try staying. Look a little longer. Let the not-knowing sit with you. That, it turns out, is where poetry and mindful living meet.