Activating Curiosity
..how to turn worry into wonder?
I know all too often the feeling of anxiety and worry that stems from the rat race - so much so that recently, I’ve been trying to re-capture what it means to feel like a little girl. Obviously this isn’t always palpable; unfortunately the majority of us have work to accomplish, bills to pay, relationships to balance and enjoy, and mental allowances to stay aware of. What I’m thinking of when I say little girl, however, is a bit more curiosity-based: drenched in a consistent state of wonder, engaged in the ordinary, certain of love. There is a fearlessness about children that I encounter on the daily that I still remember is tucked away within my adult body.
Perhaps some may say that it’s chasing youth, and maybe in a way it is, but the truth is I often feel that weight of the lack of time in my life (long-term, as my “late twenties” approach and the world suddenly seems more daunting that even I’d care to recognize). Caught between the desire to dream big dreams, but also keep it all as simple as I can, it’s easiest for us to wrap up a hectic work day and drop dead on the couch, switching off our brains to veg out on whatever might do it for us…and in all of this, I ask my flatmates, “Hey, how was your day? How are you?”
But I never ask myself.
I almost don’t expect people to ask me how I’m doing anymore.
In protest of this recognition, I switched up my morning routine of journaling and devotions to evening - the last thing I do before bed. Approaching my friends with a mindset of “tell me more,” needs to leak more into my own life. I claim storyteller as my basest identity, my closest characterization; so why not take this approach to my uncomfortable spaces? Sure, maybe it brings more to the surface than I truly desire, but it also brings a bit more raw - more emotion - that I need to recognize instead of collapsing and floating above the scenario instead of addressing it.
Curiosity Activated:
Carrying my notebook with me on my commute has been a way to remove me from worry and into a space of wonder - childlike curiosity - observing the people around me. Taking out my earbuds and listening has moved me into feeling the rhythm of the shoes on the sidewalk, the spin of the bus on the road, the conversations and steady hum occurring that I may have otherwise missed. In a very strange way, it lifts me out of my head and into my reality.
Ask the Questions:
“Hi self. How are you?”
Where did I notice beauty in my day? Did I take a moment to appreciate it?
How did my observation bleed into my reactions? Did I breathe?
How can I retain curiosity into tomorrow?