Ode to the Experiences I Will Not Have, and Some I Will

When you reach a certain age, little genuinely surprises you, and you discover that it becomes essential to consciously choose to see wonder.

You come to realize, at some point on the journey, that you’ve seen or heard a variation of what you see or hear somewhere in the past, and the power of it in your soul and psyche soften.

Until something breaks through that WOWS you again.

And the world delivers to you something magical, soulful, or extraordinary.

For me, it was seeing a Red Bull skier ski down the knife-edge ranges above the clouds, through the slopes, and down the sheer descents of Mount Everest.

It reminded me of the stratospheric drop by Felix Baumgartner, who once fell to Earth by stepping off the edge of space from a height of 38,969 meters (127,852 feet).

But it also caused me to deeply appreciate a reality that was difficult to admit.

There are things and experiences I will never have in this life, but a part of me would have loved to have tried.

For years, my partner and I spoke of visiting India and seeing the Taj Mahal at dawn. I’ve always been fascinated by the joyous celebration and collective abandon of the Hindu Holi festival.

I doubt I will ever reach India.

Time, energy, and other priorities closer to home have risen to the top of our travel list.

I will never visit the Kingdom of Bhutan. Bhutan chose to preserve its environment, limit tourism, and measure its population by happiness.

I will only ever see it on video.

I love warmth, but I can’t see myself experiencing the silent sands of the Sahara Desert and seeing its immense dunes.

I shall visit in my imagination.

The chances are high that I won’t climb up to Machu Picchu in Peru to take in its views and immense history.

But somehow, although I have never been there and will never visit, I know of it in some sense through the images I’ve seen.

Still, there are places and experiences I hope to have that are closer to home and can be just as sublime.

I hope to see Ludovico Einaudi, who has become one of the most prolific and masterful pianists in the world since we first saw him in a concert hall in Paris.

Not too long ago, a young artist friend told me about Sofiane Pomart, and I have yet to see him perform on the piano live, but when I watch streaming videos, I’m amazed by his prodigious talent.

I think, if I have enough numbered days, that I shall once again walk the streets of Straßburg, Austria, where I remember young violinists playing in town squares.

And I may once again visit Lake Como.

Even though it’s been years since the world discovered it, with the arrival of celebrities, maybe I will once again witness a Strauss waltz under the stars on a warm summer night, where young and old townspeople do nothing more than eat, dance, and converse in a magical place.

Perhaps wonder isn’t found in the places we visit, but in the moments, images and sounds of those faraway and near experiences that we allow to settle into us.

© 2026 Linda Spencer, My Red Sneakers. All Rights Reserved.