How to Curious
The sun had not yet risen and my eyes were blurry, it was still early in the morning. As I was about to open the door to walk out of my apartment in Lisbon, I glanced back at the apartment. Something inside me knew that I would not be seeing the apartment for some time.
I felt both nervous and excited. Nervous as I was intentionally stepping into the unknown. I had decided the previous day to book a one way ticket to London for that morning, without any clue as to where all I would be going and for how long. I also felt excited as I felt this would be the start of an adventure, something I had been craving.
Once in London, I enjoyed the Christmas decor that covered the streets and surprisingly found myself taking pictures of the retail displays. A new curiosity was emerging within me, one that I had not felt for some time. I had been to London enough times in the year that the invitations for Christmas catch ups had started to roll-in. It was wonderful to see many friends, 1-1, over coffees, lunches and dinners. Equally wonderful to see the city full of Christmas cheer and take in the music, the lights, the decor inside all of these spaces. The mood felt uplifting.
“How long are you here for?” people would ask. “I don’t know” was my response to pretty much every question I was asked about ‘my plan’. I was reminded that these three words, ‘I don’t know’, are some of the most powerful words I can say to myself. In meditation, they represent a beginner’s mindset and invite an openness to life. I had spent most of my past year with an expert’s mind, feeling the pressure ‘to know’ everything and everyone. This was a welcomed break.
By my second night in London, I found myself casually browsing property listings on my phone, a sign I was feeling inspired by the city. The next morning, I went to see a half dozen apartments, to again explore my curiosity. Maybe I’ll set up a second base in London next year, to complement my Lisbon base, I thought to myself.
After a weekend full of Christmas catch ups, I felt inspired to continue the holiday theme and took the train to Paris. I had never taken that train before, it was again me giving myself permission to explore my curiosity.
The city, decorated with Christmas lights, was magical, romantic and inspiring. On the first night, staying not far from the Eiffel Tower, I thought it might be interesting to climb it. I bought the ticket and started my way up. And within a few stories of walking the grilled staircase, a fear of heights that I had thought I had overcome resurfaced. I paused and checked in with how I was feeling. My curiosity had disappeared and fear took its place. In a moment of humility, I walked down instead of up, bought another ticket to ride the elevator up and eventually made it to the top.
On the second day in Paris, I was curious to begin speaking French again, a language I learned growing up but had lost a connection with. Although initially Portuguese would come out at my attempts to order a croissant and herbal tea, eventually my brain made the switch and French began to flow naturally. Speaking the language brought me back to grade school and felt nostalgic of my earlier days.
Then I decided to fly to the US for a strategic planning offsite with the CEO of my business, as it was a quiet time and he could take a few days with me. At the airport in Paris, I bought some noise canceling headphones for the long flight ahead, also sensing I may be taking several long flights over the coming while during this adventure.
The flight got delayed by one hour. And then another hour. And then again for another hour. Each time, I took it as a queue to leave the gate and with only my carry-on in hand, roam the airport browsing the shops and picking up a bite to eat here or there. And then the flight was canceled. What was most telling was I had no reaction. In previous times, I surely would have felt some agitation, anger or disappointment. This time, nothing. When I realized the non-reaction to the canceled flight, a smile appeared on my face.
I went to an airport hotel, messaged the CEO to share that it probably didn’t make sense for me to still come and we decided to cancel our offsite as quickly as we had scheduled it.
With no plan, I resisted the urge to make one. I was curious to see how I’d feel in the morning, and equally curious to see how uncomfortable I might feel not knowing. I turned on Netflix, something I hadn’t done in months, ordered a pizza and enjoyed a quiet evening in my hotel room.
The next morning I woke up and began to journal. I was writing, writing and writing, and I started to miss my family. The next day was my dad’s birthday and Christmas Eve. The thought came up to surprise them in Toronto. A rush of excitement flooded my chest and stomach. I booked a one way ticket to Toronto that left in two hours and made my way back to the airport.
As I opened the door to my parent’s home in Toronto, I could hear the TV was on. I quietly took off my shoes and put my carry-on to one side. My mom heard someone come in and came to the entrance. A huge smile came on her face, one of the most genuine smiles I had seen all week. Her surprise reaction lasted about three seconds though. As she gave me a hug, she muttered “I had a feeling this morning that you might surprise us”. It’s as if she knew before I did. My dad then walked by and gave me a passing hello, as if it was a non-event. We then joked that if I really wanted to surprise them, then not coming would have been the surprise.
My sister showed up the next day with her family, including my three year old nephew. I still remember his reaction when he saw me– he was genuinely surprised. At least someone one, I thought to myself.
After a few days of time with the family, it was the day after Christmas and I was sitting with my sister over breakfast. “Where are you going next?” she asked curiously. “I don’t know”, I muttered, again the most powerful words I could use at that moment in my adventure. Wanting to help, she began to ask me questions about what I was craving and in one word, “sunshine”. Being the little sister she is to me, she then challenged me to go to the further possible place to find sunshine: Australia. I stared at her as she said it and again, noticed a mix of excitement and nervousness in my chest and stomach. A sign to lean into this spontaneous idea.
A few hours later, I was on a very long flight to Australia, with again no idea of what would happen next. All I knew was that I was curious to find out and the only way to explore my curiosity was to be open to discovering what life had in store for me.
And that is how I learned to curious.
