A few weeks ago, I listened to a podcast with Elizabeth Gilbert on the value of curiosity. She’d realized that perhaps encouraging people to be curious is better than her previous credo—find your passion. Yeah, I hate that ‘find your passion’ crap. It seems well-suited for single-minded people. Perhaps not for the healthiest of people. Many people with one all-consuming passion also seem like, well, assholes. They may accomplish amazing things, but there’s often a price to pay.
I’ve always thought curiosity is not just a good quality to have, but also an important survival tool. Curiosity didn’t kill the cat, but it made that cat’s life a hell of a lot more interesting and probably longer-lasting. If you’re curious about the world, you’re in no hurry to leave it. You have to stick around to see what happens next. To answer that next question.
Sometimes I wonder if the internet kills curiosity. As someone who remembers the pre-internet world, we used to have to wait to have our curiosity satisfied. There were these things called encyclopedias, but even they didn’t contain all the answers. Sometimes you just had to wonder. You were left with questions that had no immediate answers.
This is not the worse thing, to have some questions in your pocket with no obvious answers. It can be, in fact, quite entertaining. You can spend hours speculating about what the answer might be. Just this morning, I’ve spent several minutes wondering why the birds that are usually flitting around outside my window and on the wires in the backyard aren’t there today. Did they all head south for the winter overnight? Did my neighbor forget to refill his feeder? Is it something about the weather? The time of day? I have no idea.
Questions with no obvious answers make for great conversation, debating all the possibilities. For years, my husband and I could talk for hours about whether Tom Brady would have been Tom Brady without Bill Belichick. The internet couldn’t answer that question.1
Uncertainty is okay. More than okay. It’s necessary. You know who’s never uncertain? Donald Trump. People with no uncertainty are more than a little dangerous.
My favorite questions are the ones the internet has no answer for. What’s up with the birds this morning? Is Tom Brady the GOAT? What’s the name of that TV show that was only on the air for a few episodes when I was a kid and was sort of sci-fi-ish and maybe had something to do with serendipity? Did I dream that show? What’s up with the lone Canada goose paddling along the river? Did it piss off all the other geese? Is it an outcast from goose society?
The world is never boring if you’ve got a few good questions to chew on. And maybe I’m wrong…maybe the answers are out there on the internet. Even if they are, there are always more questions to ask.
Curiosity killed the cat, except the phrase originally read, “Care killed the cat,” as in ‘worry’ or ‘sorry for others.’ At least that’s what the internet says. But how did ‘care’ turn into curiosity and what the hell does that say about a culture that turned ‘worry’ into curiosity? I have so many questions.
Cincy area folks, come see me tomorrow at Joseph-Beth Booksellers at 7:00, talking all about gender!
Local folks, I’ll be teaching two memoir classes in September. Details below. If you’re interested, reply to this e-mail or contact me at robynryle@gmail.com.
MEMOIR CLASS: MINING MEMORIES
Memories are the raw material of memoir, but how do you access those memories in all their glorious, vibrant detail? How do you decide which memories to focus on? How do you get those memories on the page in a way that brings them to life for your readers? These are the questions we’ll explore in this intimate, two hour class. Perfect for anyone thinking about shaping part of their life into a story, for audiences small or large. Limited to 6 seats.
When: Thursday, Sept. 8, 6:30 - 8:30
Where: Robyn's house
Cost: $75
What to bring: Whatever you use to write
How to sign up: Reply to this e-mail (robynryle@gmail.com). Spots are limited so act fast!
MEMOIR CLASS: TELLING YOUR STORY
Memoir is more than just a collection of things that happened to you. It’s a story, which means there needs to be structure and plot and suspense and character development. How do you take your memories and shape them into a narrative to share with a wider audience, big or small? That’s what we’ll be exploring in this intimate, two-hour class. Perfect for anyone thinking about shaping part of their life into a story, for audiences small or large. Limited to 6 seats.
When: Thursday, Sept. 15, 6:30-8:30
Where: Robyn's house
How much: $75
How to sign up: Reply to this e-mail (robynryle@gmail.com). Seats are limited so act fast!
I held that Tom Brady was a very good quarterback with an amazing coach. My husband argued he was, in fact, the GOAT, Belichick or not. And here I am, admitting that my husband is right. Tom Brady is an asshole, but, also, probably the GOAT.
Oh my gosh, I'm so GLAD I stumbled upon your publication. This post (from months ago, it appears) is right up my - alley. :) I'm afraid I'm training my daughter (young daughter) to say, "let's look it up mommy," when we don't know something, and unfortunately, she's not referring to the encyclopedia. I mean, the internet, the web (which you can easily get caught in), IS such a wealth of knowledge, but I hear you on the value of pure and simple WONDER. Or complicated wonder. Regardless, it's wonderful to wonder. I try to leave some on the table...until I can go secretly look it up later when she's not looking. Ha. Kidding.
My daughter and I got into this very conversation on a cross-country trip in 2014. She would see something and immediately want to whip out her phone to Google "the answer." I would say, "We have a ride across an entire country in which we could speculate." She would inevitably pull out her phone, but over time she would wait a bit and talk until she had to find out (and not take her old man's word.) I've written several times about "Wonder" - and I heard a talk yesterday about the phrase "I wonder" that was leading me to write some more about that great human condition of wondering.