Wonder, the Sublime, and Blue Flower Power

Let’s start this one with a bear. An imaginary bear actually, because we never saw him. But he was very real in my daughter’s mind. He lived in our garden and would come out in the evening after we left. This meant that we had to get things ready for him. According to my daughter, he had a route that he would follow, which included going past this one big tree by the stream. So she would have to get his garden ready for him when he stopped by.

The Vegetable Garden

We would spend literally 30 minutes piling up little sticks (carrots) and stones (grapes) for the bear. It was a whole “vegetable garden” that we would leave for him so he had something to eat. And the next time we went to the garden we would start over or add more vegetables.

This is what I would call wonder. The world is suddenly larger than a tree with some sticks and stones beneath it.

Samuel Palmer – Cornfield by Moonlight with the Evening Star (1830s)

The philosopher Jesse Prinz says that wonder may be one of our most important emotions. It's about curiosity, creativity, learning, and ultimately joy. Wonder makes us pay attention. We get lost in the moment.

Children do this instinctively. Adults, not so much.

But wonder isn’t the same thing as the sublime.

The Romantics spent a lot of time thinking about this distinction. Wonder is what happens when something catches your attention and expands your sense of what's possible. That’s the bear’s tree.

But the sublime is bigger. It’s when the mystery gets too big to fit inside your understanding. I heard someone once say it’s the difference between a seeing a firefly and the Milky Way.

Wonder engages you, it’s like “Tell me more.” But the sublime almost says “You’re smaller than you thought.”

Immanuel Kant saw them as connected experiences:

Wonder draws you in. The sublime overwhelms you. 

And yet both matter.  Wonder spurs questions. It’s what drives science, art, love. We revel in the mystery, the new questions that suddenly pop up. The new stories that emerge from ordinary circumstances.

Albert Bierstadt – Storm in the Rocky Mountains, Mt. Rosalie (1866)

As Chesterton put it:

"The world will never starve for want of wonders, but for want of wonder."

And the sublime, that humbles us. It puts us inside something larger than ourselves and reminds us that there are aspects of our existence that we don’t even have a clue about.

A Bike Ride

Here’s a personal anecdote. Many years ago I did a bike ride through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I remember finding the trailhead and starting off into the woods. It was exciting to be on my way. That was the wonder. Many hours later I ended up getting very lost on the logging trails and ended up at an overlook. Huge mountain peaks as far as the eye could see. The scene stopped me cold. That was the sublime. The trail had invited me in—come explore. But the mountain then reminded me just how small I was.

That's exactly why the Romantics were so fascinated by mountains, big storms, oceans, and star-filled skies. Look at these paintings. These weren't just beautiful vistas. They were encounters with something vast. They could give you a knot in your stomach.

And this once again is where the Blue Flower comes in. Because the Blue Flower isn't wonder, or the sublime.

Wonder opens the door and awakens the longing. But the sublime reveals just how vast the world is. And it’s the Blue Flower that keeps us walking. We keep moving toward that mystery knowing full well that we will never possess it.

Maybe that’s the point.

But it all starts with wonder. Wonder is the spark.

Continue Exploring:

• What Is Sehnsucht?

• What Do You Do With Longing?

• The Stories Came Later