WELL, NOW I HAVE TO KNOW

In which curiosity hijacks the schedule.

DELIGHT No. 22

You were doing something.

Something legitimate.

Productive, even.

Then you noticed something.

And that was the end of that.

😂

Perhaps you were outside and saw a tiny hole in the ground.

You could have kept walking.

Instead:

Who lives in there?

Oh dear.

The Question Has Entered

Once a sufficiently interesting question gets into your head, you cannot simply return to your previous life.

You need an answer.

Not eventually.

Now.

Why is that bird doing that?

What is inside that old box?

Where does this little path go?

Why does the moon look enormous tonight?

What kind of flower is that?

Who decided we should call them butterflies?

Wait.

Actually...

why DO we call them butterflies?

And there goes the afternoon.

🤣

The Mysterious Drawer

You're somewhere unfamiliar.

There is an old cabinet.

One tiny drawer.

Perhaps two inches wide.

You have no reason whatsoever to open it.

Naturally, every cell in your body is now concerned with its contents.

Buttons?

Keys?

Tiny letters?

A collection of teeth?

Okay.

Maybe don't open it.

😂

But you want to.

The Box

Humans are powerless against interesting boxes.

Especially old ones.

Put an ordinary cardboard box on a table:

Fine.

Put a little wooden box there with a brass latch:

WHAT'S IN IT?

Nothing may be in it.

Doesn't matter.

The possibility has already won.

This is how attics become three-hour expeditions.

You went upstairs looking for a Christmas ornament.

You found a box.

Inside the box was a photograph.

The photograph reminded you of someone.

That led to another box.

Now you're sitting cross-legged on the attic floor holding a postcard from 1973.

The Christmas ornament has been abandoned.

Mission changed.

Where Does That Go?

This question has caused countless unnecessary detours.

A narrow road.

A trail through the woods.

A staircase in an old building.

A tiny footpath disappearing behind something.

You weren't going that way.

But now you've seen it.

Where does it go?

There are two kinds of people.

Those who continue toward their intended destination...

and those who say:

“Let's just see.”

😂

I have great affection for the second group.

Provided the path is safe and we're not trespassing.

The Department has lawyers now.

Thursday insisted.

The Window

You pass an old building.

One window is different.

Perhaps there's a little light in it.

A plant.

A curtain.

Something unusual sitting on the sill.

Immediately, your imagination begins furnishing an entire life behind the glass.

Who lives there?

What room is that?

Why is there a tiny ceramic duck in the window?

Does the duck belong to someone?

Was it a gift?

Has it always been there?

You have now developed emotional investment in a ceramic duck belonging to strangers.

Congratulations.

Nature Is Particularly Dangerous

Nature places mysterious objects everywhere.

Tracks in snow.

A feather.

A cocoon.

A strange stone.

A curled leaf.

A shell with a perfect little hole.

Something rustling beneath a shrub.

You bend down.

Look closer.

Turn it over.

Follow the tracks.

Wait quietly.

And sometimes you discover something wonderful.

Other times you discover:

bug.

Very enthusiastic bug.

You straighten immediately.

Investigation concluded.

🤣

The Internet Has Made This Worse

Once, unanswered questions had a natural stopping point.

You wondered.

Nobody knew.

Life continued.

Now:

“Hang on. I'm looking this up.”

This is dangerous.

You begin with:

Why do cats knead blankets?

Twenty-seven minutes later you are reading about medieval shipbuilding.

Nobody knows how you got there.

You certainly don't.

But apparently Viking boats had—

No.

Stop.

We have things to do.

😂

Children Are Professionals

A child asks:

“Why?”

You answer.

“Why?”

You answer again.

“Why?”

Eventually you reach the edge of human knowledge.

You try:

“Because that's just how it works.”

The child looks at you.

Unconvinced.

And perhaps rightly so.

Children haven't yet learned that we're supposed to stop asking questions simply because everybody else has stopped asking them.

They want to know.

Why is the sky blue?

Where does wind begin?

Do fish get thirsty?

Why can't we tickle ourselves?

Where was I before I was born?

Do worms know they're worms?

Oh.

Well.

We were having a perfectly manageable afternoon.

😂

Curiosity Doesn't Always Need to Be Useful

Some questions matter.

Some lead to discoveries.

Some change lives.

Others contribute absolutely nothing.

For example:

If you stand beneath an umbrella while jumping on a trampoline, would you stay in the air longer?

No.

We're not testing it.

Put the trampoline away.

🤣

But the question itself?

Wonderful.

Because curiosity is one of the ways we remain awake to the world.

It says:

There's more here.

Look closer.

Turn it over.

Ask.

Wonder.

Follow the little path a few feet farther.

We Become Familiar With Things Too Quickly

Perhaps that's one of adulthood's quieter losses.

We stop examining things because we already know what they are.

Tree.

Bird.

Rock.

Cloud.

Old building.

But look again.

Which tree?

What bird?

What kind of rock?

Why is that cloud shaped like a disgruntled chicken?

Now we're back.

😂

The world didn't become less interesting.

We became accustomed to it.

Curiosity reverses that.

Official Curiosity Clause

The Haven Department of Unnecessary Investigations hereby grants permission to wonder about things that have absolutely nothing to do with your responsibilities.

You may investigate:

a peculiar footprint,

an excellent door,

a mysterious drawer,

an unfamiliar bird,

a strange word,

a tiny path,

or why the neighbor's cat appears every afternoon at precisely 3:17.

You are not permitted to investigate other people's private business.

Curiosity is delightful.

Nosiness is a different department.

We needn't be jerks.

😂

Your Assignment

Find one thing today that makes you think:

Huh.

That's enough.

Don't rush past it.

Look closer.

Ask the question.

You don't even have to find the answer.

Because sometimes delight lives not in knowing...

but in that wonderful little moment when the ordinary world suddenly becomes mysterious again.

And you realize:

Well, now I have to know.

♥️