 As the plane began to lift from the ground, I heard a hoot and a giggle as only two young children can do as they're experiencing the wonder of flight. As quickly as their joy boiled up and out, their parent was quick to quiet them down. As we age, there's a temptation to lose and bottle our sense of wonder. We long for the naivety of adolescence but scoff at its actual practice. What would it look like for us to practice wonder? What would it be like to giggle at the simple miracles we experience happening every day? What might we then open ourselves up to discover?