A child’s curiosity.
Children have an instinct of curiosity that adults seem to lose over time. The want to experience the world first hand, to touch and hear and feel everything for themselves.
They run to the edge of the driveway, excited to lead the way as parents follow behind.
Last week I was enjoying a mocha and reading while at a local coffee shop and I saw a young girl, probably three years old, with her father. There were dominos spread across the end table, from a number of unsuccessful attempts by the father to build a small tower.
This wasn’t his fault, since she clearly was more interested in the effect of her small hand pushing against the center of the fragile structure.
He heads to the counter to check on his drink order. Instantly she darts towards him, arms stretching above her head.
He turns back, scoops her up in his arms, and places her standing on the top of a counter seat towards the barista.
What an exciting new perspective, since most of her existence has been in an oversized world towering above her. She could peer into the world of a cafe barista. The syrup pumps, the hissing steam, drips of expresso aroma floating in the air.
She might not have understood everything, but was awestruck for a few fleeting moments.
The wonder in the little details is a lost appreciation as we grow older. Rather than observing, we absorb ourselves in our own world.
But taking the time to reflect on things that we find interesting is too valuable to lose. Maybe we lose that sense of exploration because we no longer have our parents to guide us. No one stands over our sholder, ready to pull us away from the busy street back safely into the driveway.
No one can lift us to new heights, or clear away the errors to start fresh.
Shouldn’t the challenge add to the experience? Shouldn’t we embrace the difficulty to climb, to see from new perspectives?
It’s my wish to try to explore and lead a life full of little discoveries.