Rachel Carson on Helping Children to Wonder

On January 1, 1965, the Reader’s Digest Association published an anthology of previously published essays dedicated to the challenge of existence—what they call “the most difficult of all the arts.”

The book, How to Live With Life, contains the collective wisdom, insights, and experience of those who, according to the introduction, have “lived deeply, thought profoundly, and cared enormously about sharing with others what they have learned. “

From “housewives” to psychiatrists, this nearly 600-page book abounds with gems that have withstood the sands of time, with, of course, many problematic clunkers best relegated to the dustbins of the past.

Divided into sections about how we live—with people, ourselves, reality, purpose, wisdom, and destiny—each area of struggle is meted out among the great thinkers and doers of the time, with essays from actor Danny Kaye to The Power of Positive Thinking author Norman Vincent Peale.

But perhaps the most fascinating of all comes from American marine biologist and conservationist Rachel Carson, who launched the modern environmental movement with her 1962 book Silent Spring. Silent Spring, which brought Carson’s environmental concerns to the public’s attention, had a profound impact on our country, as she revealed how toxic and destructive synthetic pesticides were, leading to positive policy change, a ban on DDT, and the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA).

Carson brings her wisdom to wonder in the natural world in this collection.

First published in Women’s Companion Magazine, Carson’s piece is called “Help Your Child to Wonder.”

Well before Tomohide Akiyama, the director of the Japanese Forestry Agency, gave the world the term Shinrin-yoku, or “Forest Bathing,” Rachel Carson gave voice to the forest (although she was by no means the first.). Carson understood with her entire soul the vital life source that nature offers; she appreciated the power of the forest.

When her nephew Roger—whom she would one day adopt and parent— was 20 months old, she wrapped him in a cozy blanket, ferried him down to the beach after dark in the rain, following the call of crash and froth, the confetti of glorious glitter illuminating the sky, the showering salty mist of ocean spray on their skin, to take in the symphonic sundries of the natural world.

Carson believed, as I do, in the vital imperative of being able to feel. Attunement with feeling is a depth that grows a person’s spirit. Learned knowledge might grow a person’s mind, but it cannot expand their resilience and fortitude like sitting with the tumult of emotion to arrive safely at the waiting harbor on the other side.

“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children,” she wrote, “I should ask that her gift to each child be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.”

The wonder that the world can instill in a child is something no book or class can ever teach. “It is not half so important to know as to feel,” wrote Carson.

Once a child feels the thrill of awe, they will seek the knowledge they need to know more.

She assures adults they needn’t worry about what they know of the world and what they don’t.

After all, meaning comes from feeling, not from names, Carson said. 

She made clear that access and location should not be seen as limitations. If you’re in a city, “you can always look at the sky, the clouds, the stars and listen to the wind. You can feel the rain on your face and think of its long passage from sea to air to earth…go to the park and observe the mysterious migrations of the birds, the changing seasons, and the seeds of plants.”

And by all means, don’t forget to look at the microcosm of the macrocosm. Bring a lens and a small microscope and study the grains that make up the sand and the patterns that make up the world.

Carson felt the natural world was the antidote to sorrow, loneliness, and struggle. When you’re in nature, and you allow yourself to be still, you can’t help but hear the wind echo inside your body, the lilt of trees swaying you. The entire world holds us inside the vast dome of its unknown self, imploring us to know it, respect it, and treat it with the same kindness and understanding each of us longs for.

So, go outside, even if it’s just for five minutes, and look at the sky, or the nearest tree, the closest star.

Head to the park and pick up a leaf. Tend to the small things that make up the big things because everything that makes us suffer can be broken down into small things. Let’s get used to identifying the world around us, so we can better identify the feelings inside us.

Until next week, I remain…

Amanda

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Nope, I'm not a therapist or a medical professional; I’m just a human trying to figure out how to live.

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