A week ago we had our first real snow of the year here in
Regensburg. I was of course thrilled, singing “Winter Wonderland” and the like
at the bus stop before dawn. On the way to my classes (which all started late
because of the weather), I was positively frolicking, kicking up snow just to
watch it glitter in the sunlight. I got a few smiles from fellow students, and
I wondered whether my professors would be more likely to roll their eyes or be
amused if they saw me.
Of course snow is normal here. And it’s not like I’ve never
seen snow in my life. But I’ve never
seen this particular snow here and now. Of course snow is no fun
if you’re driving. But just because it comes every year is no reason to write
it off as boring. I feel like such a phenomenon occurs often in literary
scholarship. If you read enough books, you realize that there are only a few
basic plots and that most books follow one of a few general patterns.
Everything’s been said already—do we really need new books? Modern literature
tends to be full of this thing called ennui.
I define this word as existential boredom.
The inability to take joy in life because everything has already been
done by someone else. I started thinking about all of this a few months ago
when I heard in a class that there were really no new stories, just the same
old ones rearranged. I then started to argue that with every new person comes a
source of new stories. Every person is a new and unique instance in this world,
no matter how many billions of us there are. Every person is a different
meeting point of experiences, characteristics and perspectives. No one has ever
seen the world through your eyes or mine, and no one ever will again.
“I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,” says one of my
favorite country songs[1].
Taking time to play in the snow, sliding screamingly down a hill in a trash
bag, or even just pausing to look twice at the tiny frost crystals covering a
twig, can help us keep alive that sense of wonder that is so essential to
faith, and maybe even help someone else find it again.
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