And so you have to have faith that there might be a surprise. And that feeling for me is the best feeling, because it opens up an authentic sense of hope, an authentic sense of possibility. And I think moments of wonder are brushing up with this feeling that, wait - maybe you don't have everything figured out yet. With scientists and people commenting on humanity and where climate change is going and how humans are destined to be greedy, the world can feel so known. And I think these moments of wonder, these bubbling up feelings of "whoa!" - there is a terror in it, there is a feeling of smallness before the world. So if you go to its cousin, it's synonym - awe - the root of that is old English "ege" for terror. And so the root of "wonder" is kind of deliciously and fittingly unknown. And you picture it with bubbles all around and there's a naivete or innocence.īut I'm an etymology nerd. LM: I think of it as this thing that's often kind of eye-rolled into the corner and dismissed as trivial or twee or just for children.
It brings out a sense of wonder which is kid-like. SHK: They’re not afraid to not know the answer to something, or to not know that something is completely explained. And he said, "Maybe if we go in Uncle Jim's boat, we could touch the horizon." It's just an audience who is thrillingly alive to me. We were at the beach on a cold night and we were talking about the word "horizon." We're looking out. My kids are teenagers now, but I remember when they were really little, I would sometimes see things through their eyes, suddenly staring at an icicle or looking at this tongue on a goat in the zoo, or something I would never notice, like a ripple on the sand on the beach. Watching his mind try to group the world and see what went together and try to make associations and understand things just felt like, oh, I just want to have this conversation again and again and test my own assumptions. Dogs and cats were dogs and little ants were dogs. So a turtle was a fish, but a plant or leaf moving was a fish, and anything that was a little land animal was a dog. He was calling anything that was kind of green and scaly a fish. And the show is for kids who are a little bit older, but the older one was making interesting mash-ups of words and understandings. LM: OK, so now they're 4 and 1 and a half.
How old are your kids and what were they asking you? SHK: I love that you talk about your son asking questions that kind of seem psychedelic. I started it about a year into the pandemic, and I suddenly just felt really hungry to think about nature. I was finding myself having these almost psychedelic conversations with my son about what things are in the world.Īnd it was also partly selfish. They're not all locked in with assumptions yet. I suddenly realized they're a demanding audience. Kids kind of intimidated me until I had them. I now have two young boys, and I started to find the minds of kids really interesting.
Shannon Henry Kleiber: So, Lulu, what inspired you to create "Terrestrials"? This transcript has been edited for clarity and length. Miller spoke with "To The Best Of Our Knowledge," explaining how nature and child-like sensibility can help adults rediscover a sense of wonder.
#Teleport synonym series#
Her latest project, near and dear to her heart, is the creation of a "Radiolab" spinoff show and podcast series for children: " Terrestrials."
She is also the author of the book, " Why Fish Don’t Exist: A Story of Loss, Love and the Hidden Order of Life." Lulu Miller is known for her work on curiosity-driven radio shows and podcasts, including " Invisibilia" and " Radiolab," where she is now a co-host.
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