I’m going to be super honest with you about my recent adventures how curiosity plays a role. My daily routine has been all out of whack and thus I’m a bit late in this post, which is coming to you courtesy of free emergency room wifi. My life in the past week has been consumed by round two of cleaning out my parent’s home of 50 years. With my four siblings. In a heatwave. And no A/C.
Both of my parents are alive, which affords us the luxury of a full spectrum of emotions, much of which is anger about excessive hoarding, collecting, and a severe shopping compulsion we hadn’t fully grasped until after we moved them into assisted living. As an example, I never saw my mother employ Post-It notes—she always used scrap paper—and yet we found thousands of pads of sticky notes: name brand, knock-offs, versions for every holiday, size, shape, color, quip, and cartoon character.
There was a lot of “what was she thinking?” going on. Yet no answers.
But in working so closely with my adult siblings, I was afforded the opportunity to see how they operate. Not on the big predictable levels, but in tiny ways, like how they structure their mornings, how they talk on the phone (they largely scream into the speaker while holding the phone in front of their face—even when trying to pack or carry boxes). Even how they cut watermelon or choose a flavor of fizzy water from a selection in the fridge. I observed what our feelings taste like when we eat them (mostly chocolate).
My biggest takeaway from the clean-out isn’t the random photos, ancient hard-boiled eggs, or family heirlooms we stumbled upon. (Is that my late grandfather’s toe tag?)
It’s this annotated view of my siblings as adults in the world and how we do things.
In my yacht chef career, I was a solo operator. I worked as part of a team alongside my fellow crewmembers, but I was the only culinary professional. For my entire career. I never had the benefit of watching how someone else works in a galley to learn from their process. After 25 years on the job, I had routines and systems in place, but never the opportunity to examine anyone else’s way of organizing fridges, planning menus, or structuring their day.
Sometimes the seemingly random isn’t always so random1. While helping a friend unpack the kitchen in her new apartment, I explained the importance of easy access to the items she used most frequently. When I came upon a stack of glass pie plates, I suggested we park them in a corner out of reach, since I had never known her to make one pie, let alone five. She corrected me, “Actually, we use them all the time. They make great plates when we eat dinner on the couch.”
I never knew.
But also, what an awesome solution to a simple problem: you don’t have to worry about food slopping over the sides of your plate onto your lap.
I went through a phase where I was curiously obsessed with junk drawers. The contents told me a lot about the owners—things they both needed and didn’t at the same time. Things they wanted nearby at easy access but hadn’t created any other space for. Objects they found important but had no other place to live. Bits they couldn’t discard. I examined them in other people’s houses. I pillaged them and made art with the booty.
Remember a time when you first started carrying a purse, when you and your friends would rummage through each other’s bags to see what you all carried, what you always needed, and what found its way to the bottom? For you non-purse carriers, you’re probably saving yourself a literal backache, but also, how do you curb your insatiable curiosity to know what us purse-carriers could possibly be lugging around with us everywhere all the time?
Last week, I extended an invitation to open our eyes to the world outside of our windows and doors, to spot patterns, oddities and any tidbits we might normally overlook. This week, our assignment is to explore some habits, patterns and routines from our own lives and ask friends about their version. Extra credit? Switch something around and see how it feels.
Let’s indulge in a curiosity about the people around us and how they make their way through life.
Curiosity is a judgement-free zone.
There’s so much to learn about ourselves and other people when we really look at the minutiae of our lives.
What do we do when we can’t fall asleep? How do we pack a suitcase? What is your shower routine? How do you decide what to order in a restaurant? What’s in your junk drawer? Your handbag? How do you wake up in the morning?
But also the big stuff.
How do you react when someone cuts ahead of you in line or driving? How do you soothe yourself when confronted with a shitty situation? How do you make hard decisions? How do you release something (person, activity, membership, job, relationship) that no longer serves you? How you recognize when something no longer serves you? How do you stay strong when you feel like crumbling? What do you do when you need to feel brave?
This isn’t about looking for advice or information you could find from google searches. It’s more of a jumping-off point for conversations with other humans about the acts of humaning—what we do, how we act, react, and respond. Think of it like comparing notes. Sometimes, we don’t really understand how we operate until we examine what we do, take the time to discuss it, analyze it and see how other people make their way through the world. Curiosity about others is also a curiosity about ourselves.
So dump out your bags (both literal and metaphorical) and get your friends in on the action. You never know what you’ll find.
art by Maxwell Jayne
I feel like if I actually dumped out my metaphorical handbag (my Mom-Mom used to call it a pocketbook) I might drown in the detritus…