What kind of culture of fearful drones would proliferate a phrase such as "Curiosity killed the cat"? It's so ridiculous that I don't even know where to start (you know that this is the opening of a blog that might be a bit extreme.)
Without curiosity, we might as well be dead (told you).
Curiosity is what fuels learning and change. Imagine schools without curiosity (which you couldn't do without it and is sadly, not much of a stretch....shocking that our kids learned to fear and avoid something that we are telling them will kill them). Students could only regurgitate information spat at them from teachers who only did the same as a part of their education.
Without curiosity, we could never wonder if things could be different or better. We could never try anything new because there would be no spark within to develop fantasies or imagination.
You can't even form a question without curiosity. Think about where that would leave us. No connections with other people. No way to learn from them. No books- why write when no one is wondering about anything enough to read about it? No Facebook (gasp) because no one would be curious about what is going on in your life (OK, so there would be ONE benefit). Socratic method would be totally f*c*ed.
Curiosity is the little curiously inexplicable je ne sais quoi that makes our humanity matter. It's our way of being unpredictable, of having any hope of growing, of learning from one another. It gives a little hint of objectivity to our subjectivity to see our hurtful habits and wonder if there is another way.
There is nothing more innocent than curiosity. The curious are not seeking a means to an end nor gains nor harm. They are simply wondering. Questioning. Being Human.
How has this harmful phrase could become so ubiquitous? How could we think it is OK to so openly discourage our children from something so naturally human and incredible? Something so powerful and important.
Life is short and confusing and chaotic. I truly believe that our only hope is curiosity- the daily observation of ourselves and our world without fear or judgement- just with a soft wonder (apparently my definition of curiosity). Why? What? How? It's the only way to open ourselves to the world. Without it, we are shut inside ourselves with no connection to the outside. We are static. Flat. Dead.
Curiosity killed the cat. But only because it also gave him a life to lose. Without it, he was a dead cat walking.
Or Maybe Curiosity killed the cat, so he could be born again. And again. And Again. (up to 9 times)
One person's journey to living in the present moment (I realize that perhaps you can't journey to live in the present moment and perhaps making any goal is self-defeating in the world of zen, but I still have to try, no?)
Allaholic?
We're all ___aholics.
Addiction has been defined as “a state of being dependent on a certain substance, which is harmful or dangerous for the physical or mental health of the person, for his social well-being and economical functioning of the subject”. When you type the word ‘addiction’ into popular search engines, you find links for various substance dependence sites. When I sift through these sites, I find little information that is helpful to me; yet, almost daily I find myself making decisions that are bad for me- decisions that are harmful for my physical or mental health for my social well-being and economical functioning. I am not taking hits of crack or lighting any pipes. My drugs are not nearly so obvious to pinpoint. They do not come in powder nor plant form. My drugs are daily decisions that I make. Decisions to which I keep running back. I know they are bad for me, but they are so beautiful in the moment, and I am irresistibly compelled toward these decisions. Since no one is over my shoulder telling me that what I have is an addiction that is may be akin to a drug addiction, and that the cycles in which I find myself are not much different than the cycles of many other addicts, I find myself going around the same mountain over and over again.
Addiction has been defined as “a state of being dependent on a certain substance, which is harmful or dangerous for the physical or mental health of the person, for his social well-being and economical functioning of the subject”. When you type the word ‘addiction’ into popular search engines, you find links for various substance dependence sites. When I sift through these sites, I find little information that is helpful to me; yet, almost daily I find myself making decisions that are bad for me- decisions that are harmful for my physical or mental health for my social well-being and economical functioning. I am not taking hits of crack or lighting any pipes. My drugs are not nearly so obvious to pinpoint. They do not come in powder nor plant form. My drugs are daily decisions that I make. Decisions to which I keep running back. I know they are bad for me, but they are so beautiful in the moment, and I am irresistibly compelled toward these decisions. Since no one is over my shoulder telling me that what I have is an addiction that is may be akin to a drug addiction, and that the cycles in which I find myself are not much different than the cycles of many other addicts, I find myself going around the same mountain over and over again.
Let me give you an example. When I was 21, I was dating this guy named Alan. When Alan introduced himself, he said, “I work with computers”. I think, “Oh, a computer programmer! That’s a good job!” Turns out, Alan was a receptionist who happened to work in front of a computer. I should have gone running in the other direction from this obvious lying loser, but, unfortunately I did not. The first night we hung out was a blast. He was buying my friends and I rounds of drinks, we were hitting the dance floor hard, and he was telling me how excited he was to meet such an obviously smart and beautiful girl. He got my digits. “I’ll call you tomorrow” he promised at the end of the night. I did not hear from him the next day. I felt a little sad, but I accepted the rejection with dignity. This time. You see, I was not yet hooked. Alan eventually called with some excuse about how his dad had stopped by, and he had gotten in a fight with him and just could not talk afterward, but he added that he hoped I would please give him another chance. I did. This interchange pretty much made up our whole relationship. Sometimes the excuses were better than others. One time he actually told me he could not hang out with me because he had to help his friend clean a deer. But we went round and round this cycle for over a year. When we had a good time, it was so good. So fun. He was so attentive to me, so nice to my friends, so good at conversation and affection. But I could not have him. It would not last. And he kept me coming back and back for more. Each time I came back I had less dignity. I sacrificed more of myself. I planned my life around trying to “run” into him. I thought about him all the time. Drama from the relationship made my work suffer. Looking back there was so little real substance to our “relationship”. I was an addict seeking the next high. The next escape from my life. My reality. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I need to make sure you understand something right away. I am not an expert on addiction, and this blog is not intended to cover addiction research or literature. It will be a personal exploration of my addicitions which is intended to make you smile at points, to make you think at points, and to propose a view on life decisions that may help shape yours. As a natural observer and introspector, I have observed my repeated bad decisions (and those of my friends) and wondered why we continue to make the decisions that we do. I hope that you benefit from this blog as I know that these thoughts have greatly improved my decision making, and allowed me to be a good friend to others to help them make better decisions. I hope to be a friend to you as well. Because everyone needs a friend sometime to smack some sense in to them about their addictive habits.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
My favorite lines: "They are simply wondering. Questioning. Being Human. "
ReplyDeleteTo be human is to be something strange, and that can be potentially amazing. Damn potential again.
I know the "where did this phrase come from?" is somewhat rhetorical, but with (nearly) all common adaptations, at one point, in some way it was beneficial for the species. Unfortunately, much of our culture heritage is still held over from the appropriately titled Dark Ages, this adage included.
For the common person in the Middle Ages (and beyond -- one could argue still today as well) it's far too dangerous to be curious. Like you said, it kills because it opens windows, doors, thoughts previously unknown. And nothing is more dangerous to the Establishment than independent thought.
That's the grown-up version.
The kid's one is, as parents we're just trying to keep them from eating poisonous plants and/or playing with venomous animals while we're out working the fields for the feudal lord.
In summary, you're brilliant. Keep writing.
So well put. I didn't even think of the image of the cat pushing through the open windows, jumping out of trees, wondering how far it can go... but it is sort of a scary and wonderful image for where curiosity can take us. And is taking me.
ReplyDelete