I have mixed feelings about sour cream. I mean, I absolutely love it, but it’s high in saturated fat so I should consume it in moderation (I have a family history of heart disease). Glenn doesn’t like it, so I tend to buy a small container, use 2 or 3 tablespoons of its creamy goodness, and then leave the rest to mold in the back of the fridge, buying more the next time I need some for a recipe.
I recently discovered that someone had the positively brilliant idea to put sour cream into a soft, squeezable container-bag-thing so that the contents are easy to dispense decoratively over a pile of nachos or a plate of appetizers, and it stays fresh for an incredibly long time in its sealed pouch of deliciousness.
I stood there beaming a bright smile in the dairy aisle of Zanatto’s Market, filled with wonder at my discovery. What an amazing world we live in — squeezable sour cream!!!!
Wonder has been in short supply. Lately I’ve been in despair over the current political climate, the news about Hurricane Florence’s damage is devastating, I’ve got way too much work on my plate, and I’m worried about various loved ones who are ill or struggling with tough issues.
Needless to say, the squeezable sour cream doesn’t help anyone dealing with the aftermath of a hurricane, and it certainly doesn’t address the problematic Supreme Court nomination/confirmation process. It can’t lessen my work load and it definitely won’t help my aunt recover from her recent back surgery.
But the few moments of wonder that suffused me in the face of this outstanding gastronomic innovation are precious to me. Wonder is excitement and surprise and joy and hope and admiration all at once. Wonder is a full-body experience — my mouth dropped open and then transformed into a wide grin, my eyes shone with pleasure, my lungs expanded as I took a quick breath, energy flowed down my arms and leg.
When wonder comes–for any reason, even something as silly as an improved way to package sour cream–we need to embrace it. We need to stop and pay attention. We need to recognize its power: Wonder is a resource for making it through everyday hassles, personal crises, and natural or political disasters. Wonder is food for our souls.
Wonder is kin to gratitude but it’s more than just appreciation. Wonder evokes a sense that the world is full of possibilities that haven’t been created or discovered yet. Squeezable sour cream reminded me that I don’t know everything, that I often can’t see what’s coming, that life’s uncertainty includes happy, fun, intriguing, useful, marvelous things, not just the bad stuff.
Not everyone I told about this experience with has shared my sense of wonder. In fact, most people have laughed, not unkindly, in the face of my exuberance over squeezable sour cream. But that’s okay.
I truly value this aspect of myself. I am thrilled that despite all the pain and the side effects of the pain meds and the hassle of my prosthesis and the stress and worry, I still feel wonder over simple things. And that wonder fills my soul so that I have sustenance to cope with whatever life throws my way.
And this particular wonder made some excellent nachos as well.