Growing up is exciting and is a dream for every child. The lure of being an adult with powers is attractive. If you are an adult you can do whatever you want without justifying it to anyone and you won’t have to take permission ever. Is there anything in your current life that you rather not leave? Or do you ever not want to grow up? What is that part of you that will forever be a child?

Before superman, before barbie, and before the astronaut- every kid dreams to be grown, the simplest metaphor of being free. A metaphor that shapes our developing reality in the deepest aspects. For me, growing up has always been the goal, a soothing light past the years of listening and learning. For kids like me, growing up has always been the change from learner, to learned. But my truth seeps through the bleached white, a blank canvas of lost creativity and forgotten dreams. Then there's the whisper of something unattended. “My name is Wonder”.

I am still a kid, or will be until the age of 24. A golden number of sorts. So this essay is set in the present, not a narrative, not a diary, and definitely not an explanation. Just an understanding of what has been and what will be for the growing individual known as me.

As a kid, I created things. Whether it be the roman catapults that destroyed the gauls, blades that defined history, or miniatures who vanquished dragons. At least that was what my creations of popsicle sticks and clay were destined for. Cuts and splinters came as they did, leaving their kiss through tears and lessons. But above all, the happiness of success drove me to make more. Growing older, this extended to the books I read. “What if I could write something like this?” Wonder told me. So I listened. I continued to create, understanding subtle nuances and applying them to my work. The limitations that held me back manifested into the bleached cloth, an imaging of the unrestricted canvas. As an adult, there would be no scolding, no cost cuts, no amateur mistakes.

But as I grew, my hands ceased their spindly motions. My creations lessened by the day, by the week, by the month.

“What is happening?”Wonder whispered to me.

“I.. I don't know.”

Until suddenly, I had no time left to reply. My head stuck around in the distractions of the teenage riot. Screen, Screen, Screen. Consume more and more. The instant entertainment slipping my fingertips into the tempting jar of distraction. Through the hours I wasted, my eyes glazed over the unconfident flickering of the bleached white, once filled with possibility. My view of the perfect future started to fade away. I subconsciously distanced myself from books. I may have despised them for some time. This distraction was urging me to forget my goal. And I realized the power ‘growing’ has on its people. At its roots, deep beneath the clouds of thought, the fields of ideation, and the soil of experimentation- lies an idea. Pushing its host to explore, to learn, to understand the world through mistake. A voice that talks to all of us. Wonder. Whether it be the first bicycle ride, or a sip of your favorite cola- wonder drives children to understand. To make mistakes and to know not to repeat them. A universal trainee course to adult life! But at a certain point of time, we ignore it. We shun its ghostly body down into the pipes it jutted from- quitting the innovation of the mind. But why?

“Why”, is what I ask myself.

Then it hits me. I remember the days of failure. The days where my things returned to the fields of ideation, twisted and broken. I remember the furrowing pressure that emerged through fizzing tasks and worries of the future to come. But something lay prowling, something even more powerful. And when I looked through the past, I saw it in the eye.

More accurately, them. The collective society. The pupils that darted back and forth in disappointment. Knowing that I could have used this ‘creation’ time for something useful. Studying for exams, practicing sports, developing extracurriculars—doing what society deemed valuable to secure a promising future. Something that always meant more than creativity in an action, something that truly helped. And this flurry is what confuses most of us- because all this time the bleached white was a world with time for Wonder.

But now we have to let go. Because there are no more mistakes to make, no more places to explore.

I hear a sliver of a voice.

Just as I lose hope, recognition of a familiar voice called out to me. But there is. Wonder whispers to me.

Then it hits me. Adults have accidents all the time. They make mistakes. And most importantly, they never stop learning. I tell myself this time and time again, floating through the muffling confusion. Now I am flying.

“I have to keep Wonder”.

That is the reality. As kids we look up at the adults, imagining a future where we are one of them. Free from restriction. But growing up doesn't just consist of physical maturity. It's realising the differences between the bleached white and the real world. Uncovering the bleary truth: Learning never stops. Along the escalating road, you’ll meet the hitchhikers. Things of distraction that lead you astray into the scraggly rubble, keeping you under their slim sway. Growing up is realizing these things have no power on you. To break free and see the truth: Learning never stops. Listen to the sparky whispers of Wonder as it drives you back on the leveled road.

“Learning never stops”.

Now I understand. The flurry of my thoughts straight into a single thread of knowledge. When we are little we listen to wonder to understand the world of adults, driving the dreams of future careers. As we grow, we lose focus on wonder’s words through the lens of the hitchhikers, distraction. We may break free of distraction’s drug, but then we must face the truth- ripping through the childish vision we once had. We must work harder and harder, and along the way we lose wonder. We look at the variables. The facts. They are what control you now. But, there are a few who remember their childhood days. Ones who open their ears to an old friend- Wonder -and they let it help them imagine. Hope. Dream.

I wish to be one of those people. I wish to vanquish distraction. I wish to keep learning. I wish to keep wondering. Then I realise, why not start now. What sets a kid's dream of superman apart from a dream of adulthood? The ability to act upon it. The ‘bleached white’ is at my doorstep- representing more than just a limitless adult life. A blank canvas of belief ready for my potential and the accidents to come. And while reality may pull its threads bare... maybe, just maybe... by listening to the faint whispers, I can live that future. And you can too. The whisper of resilience, courage, and hope is within us all, forever young.

Wonder...

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