The Constant Thread

Image by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay

In his book, The One Life We’re Given, Mark Nepo poses the question: what is the thread that is constant for you, in joy and pain, in darkness and light?

I’ve written before about powerful questions, those that invite you to look at something with fresh eyes and discover new insights. Nepo’s question was a powerful one for me. It sent me into a deep search for the constant thread that ties together the disparate elements of my life. The constant thread is central to how I experience my life even if it’s not visible to anyone else.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that question, and I think the constant thread in my life may be curiosity.

Brene’ Brown defines curiosity as “recognizing a gap in our knowledge about something that interests us, and becoming emotionally and cognitively invested in closing that gap through exploration and learning.”*

Curiosity has been a constant in my life. I’m propelled to know and explore through all my experiences—the happy and the horrendous.  I have moved from career to career and hobby to hobby driven to learn more and understand new things.

I’m especially driven to understand new things about people: people past, present, and future; people in my world and people in other worlds. I want to know how they think, how they create, how they live, how they persevere, and how they grow. Pretty much everything I have attended to in my life is about wanting to know more about other humans, their lives, their loves, and the way they focus their attention.

Curiosity about people drives my insatiable and eclectic reading.

Certainly, my work has been propelled by curiosity. As a historian, I was driven to understand how past events shaped the world I live in. As a teacher, I wanted to understand how best to help students learn. Coaching satisfies my curiosity about the many paths that individuals take to building the lives they want to live.

Sometimes I satisfy my curiosity quickly. For example, I’ve always loved beautiful pottery. In my forties, I took some time on a sabbatical from teaching to take some pottery classes at the local arts center. I loved learning about the process of making bowls and cups, glazing them, and firing them. But after a year or so, I was satisfied that I had explored creating pottery as deeply as I wanted, and I was happy to go back to admiring and acquiring the pots made by other more skilled artists.

I’ve repeated that process with several hobbies throughout my life. I reach a certain level of understanding and move on: from gardening to needlework to painting watercolors. I’m not usually looking to master new skills but rather to gain new insights into a process or a practice.

For me, curiosity is a tool for meaning-making. As Brown put it, “Curiosity’s reason for existence is not simply to be a tool for acquiring knowledge; it reminds us that we’re alive.” Curiosity helps me connect to others, past, present, and future. It reminds me that I am part of the big natural world that shares planet earth.

What about you? What is the constant thread that runs throughout your life? I’d love to hear your thoughts—in the comments or via private message!

*Brene’ Brown, Atlas of the Heart, Random House, 2021, p. 64.