Curiosity: Did it Really Kill the Cat?
I’m in a space of curiosity at the moment. Today started with an edginess to it, an edginess to my emotional state that is. A sense that something’s about to emerge, something’s waiting to make itself visible in my life. The edginess arises from the “not knowing” as well as from the impatience. I can hear my inner voice saying “come on out already, whatever you are!”. And then there’s a bit of fear that steps us — because what if I don’t like whatever it is that reveals itself? Interesting times.
The edginess has given way a bit though, to an energy of curiosity. Whenever I hear the word “curiosity” I’m reminded of the saying “curiosity killed the cat”. It’s one of those sayings of old that’s intended to have you keep curiosity at bay, play it safe, stay with what you know. But I’ve got to wonder; is curiosity really a bad thing? As a coach, I’m trained to be curious, to ask curious questions. I would assert that scientists work from a place of curiosity all the time. My sense is that curiosity allows us to grow and learn and evolve.
So I’m sitting here, fluxing between wanting to give space to the curiosity, and wanting to shy away from it. Is this curiosity taking me away from what I should really be focusing on? Or is it actually pointing me toward something new that merits some exploration? In this moment, I’m not really sure. My heart is telling me to find the place of both/and with this one: as in, stay with the curiosity AND don’t let go of what you’re doing. Can I do both? I’m not sure. I guess I’ll have to play and find out. I guess what I know for sure is this: from the place of curiosity, I might not like what I encounter, however, I might just get the answer I’m searching for. Methinks that curiosity is the path to follow, at least for now.
Balancing Movement and Stillness
The last few days I’ve been sitting with what appear to be opposing notions — the notion of movement, and that of stillness. You see, what I’m currently aware of is that I am heading towards a particular objective. Actually, who am I kidding — I’m heading towards several objectives, but they’re all on the same path. As each objective is met, another one is waiting further along. But that is not the point.
The point, instead, is that even as I head toward these objectives, no matter how clear I might be about what I want out of life, there are moments where the fog settles in and I can’t see where it is I’m headed. In these moments, I can choose to move forward, trusting my internal compass, or I can choose to be still for a bit, and wait for the fog to burn off.
My sense is that there are merits to both. In the movie Finding Nemo, when Dori forgets where she is and where she’s heading, her motto is to “keep on swimming, keep on swimming…” — and this approach can absolutely serve. It keeps momentum going, and gets you closer to your ultimate goal in some small way. That being said, sometimes you just have to stop and get your bearings. Sometimes, stopping and allowing the fog to lift shows you a whole new perspective on the path you’ve chosen. This doesn’t mean that you’ll necessarily choose another path; it does however afford you the opportunity to come at your path from another angle, so to speak.
I guess what I’m realizing is this: there can be a real tendency to just forge ahead with a pig-headed determination when you’ve got a specific objective in mind. Sometimes, however, even as you plow ahead, the air gets murky, your vision gets impaired, and plowing ahead may actually be more of an act of danger than stick-to-it-iveness. In those moments, finding a place of stillness, and allowing things to settle may ultimately move you further along your path than would otherwise be possible. In other words, being still isn’t a bad thing. You’ve just got to find the right balance between forward movement and stillness. That’s what actually allows you to achieve your goal with panache.