Why curiosity isn’t something you stumble into, it’s something you intentionally build into your life.

I’ve always wanted a telescope.

Not in a serious, lifelong-astronomy-club kind of way. More like a quiet wish that lived in the background. The kind that shows up when you look at the night sky and feel that small tug of awe, then disappears as soon as real life kicks back in.

This year, Santa brought me one.

That may not seem like a big deal. I don’t have a particular passion for astronomy. I couldn’t tell you most constellations without Googling them. I don’t track celestial events or dream about becoming an expert on space.

Space has always fascinated me. And buying a telescope wasn’t really about the sky. It was about creating more room for curiosity, for wonder, for the kind of openness that reminds you life is bigger than your daily routine.

Maybe you can relate to this.

Somewhere along the way, my days had become efficient, productive, and predictable. Good in many ways, but tight. Full of answers and short on questions. I noticed that instead of being curious, I was rushing. Instead of exploring, I was managing my way through each day.

And I caught myself wishing. Wishing I had more wonder. Wishing I felt more open. Wishing there was more room in my life for awe and possibility.

Then one day, while journaling, I paused, stopped writing, and sketched a telescope. It hit me that instead of wishing I had more wonder, I could actually build opportunities for it.

So that’s what I did. Sarah bought…I mean, Santa brought me a telescope not because I wanted to study the stars, but because I wanted to practice curiosity. I wanted a physical reminder to look up. To slow down. To create intentional moments of exploration and possible magic in my everyday life.

Here’s the part that makes me laugh. I haven’t even been able to fully use it yet. Thanks to Illinois weather, it’s currently around -20 with the wind chill. The kind of cold that doesn’t inspire poetic stargazing so much as it dares you to open the door.

So the first time I really used my telescope, I didn’t do it outside under a wide-open sky. I did it from my bedroom. Curtains pulled back. Telescope awkwardly positioned by the window. Me standing there in socks, fully aware that this was not the cinematic moment I imagined.

And honestly? That made it perfect.

Because curiosity doesn’t require ideal conditions. It doesn’t wait for better weather, more time, or a calmer season of life. Wonder adapts. It sneaks in through windows. It shows up when we decide to let it, even imperfectly.

At first, all I saw was blur. Darkness. Nothing impressive. Which felt familiar. That’s what wonder feels like when you’re out of practice.

But then I adjusted the lens. And suddenly the moon wasn’t just a glowing circle I’d seen my whole life. It had texture. Depth. Craters. It felt closer. More real. Like I was seeing something I’d always looked at but never truly noticed.

I stood there longer than I expected. Quiet. Still. A little undone. That’s the power of curiosity.

From a psychology and mental health standpoint, this matters more than we often realize. Curiosity moves us out of survival mode and into learning mode. It softens our nervous system. It reduces stress and increases resilience. Experiences of awe have been shown to quiet anxiety, shrink the ego, and increase feelings of connection and meaning.

Wonder doesn’t eliminate our problems. It puts them in perspective.

In a world that constantly pushes us toward certainty, speed, and productivity, curiosity invites something radically different. It invites us to notice. To explore without an agenda. To ask better questions instead of rushing to answers.

When we lose curiosity, life gets smaller. Harder. Heavier. When we reclaim it, even in small ways, we start to feel more human again.

Being HumanKind begins with a posture. Openness instead of autopilot. Exploration instead of assumption. Choosing to look up, even when it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable.

You don’t need a telescope to do this.

But you do need intention.

Try This

  • Build one small ritual of wonder into your week. A walk without headphones. Five minutes looking at the sky. Sitting with a question instead of solving it.
  • Ask “why” one more time than you normally would, with your work, your relationships, and yourself.
  • Do something you’re not good at and don’t plan to master. Let curiosity lead, not outcomes.

Reflection Prompt Where in my life have I replaced curiosity with certainty? And what might open back up if I softened my grip?

Weekly Challenge Create space for one moment of awe this week. Don’t capture it. Don’t share it. Just experience it.

Go Be Go be curious. Go be open. Go be someone who looks up, even through a window, and remembers there is more to this life than what’s right in front of you.

Wonder isn’t childish. It’s human. And sometimes, even in the cold, even in imperfect conditions, that’s enough to bring us back to ourselves.

#BeingHumanKind #Curiosity #Wonder #HumanCenteredLeadership #MindfulLeadership #IntentionalLiving #ResilientLeadership #Presence