Be Curious
Back in February 2020, when phrases like social distancing, contact tracing, and super spreader events sounded more like social media vernacular than real-life safety measures, I left the creature comforts of home for a 10-day Outward Bound wilderness expedition in Patagonia, South America.
A child of the 70s, my early ‘influencers’ were unconventional literary adventurers like Pippi Longstocking, Nancy Drew and Jaime Sommers who taught me exploration was a prerequisite to discovery and closed minds rarely solved the mysteries. Yet despite identifying with free-spirited, albeit fictional, women – my decision to undertake this trip was surprisingly difficult and somewhat self-coerced.
The reluctance was not based on fear of roughing it. A tomboy at heart, my childhood world offered a kaleidoscope of opportunities for outdoor adventure. There were acres of dense woodlands for trailblazing and fort building, brackish inlets for launching sailboats fabricated from re-purposed trash and salty twine, and seemingly endless creeks to navigate one rock leap at a time. The explorer impulse was further enabled by parents whose helicoptering maxed out with “be home before dark” cautions in contrast with my grandmother’s more colorful downhome warnings of “Watch out for copperheads” and “Never get between a badger and its hole” (which definitely made more of an impression)!
Pre-teen and teen years, as for many, were transformative. Scraggly pigtails, scraped knees and Calamine-smothered splotches gave way to Baby Oil tans, Nair-bare legs and beyond bad “Mom-how could you let me?” perms as the growing clamor for boy-approval slowly muted the tomboy. Adult years hopscotched between months-long backpacking trips and impossibly high heels, and midlife found me pursuing outdoor hobbies in the realm of a bucket list half marathon, hiking and gardening.
No, this reluctance was more about relinquishing control. The thought of giving up autonomy to course instructors, group consensus and facilitated ‘get to know you’ activities felt to me more tortuous than civilized expectations like parent school nights or control top Spanx. And these types of ‘self-discovery’ trips have ways of making one, well, self-discover, and that’s not necessarily an appealing prospect.
Becoming a better version of yourself sounds enticing but it can be a siren’s call. We’re taught at an early age what is and isn’t acceptable, first from our parents and then in the schoolyard. I don’t know anyone who made it through middle school without being made aware that authenticity didn’t always do you any favors. So just how does one distinguish between versions based on authenticity vs. curated for public consumption and approval? And better what…? Daughter? Sister? Mother? Spouse? Blogger, banker, cannelloni maker? Like a persistent woodpecker drumming in the distance seeking sustenance and territorial boundaries – these questions aren’t always easy to discern but the insistent tap, tap, tapping is very hard to ignore.
I’m a Googler to a fault. A seeker. Excavating to better understand and learn. Slightly smug when able to respond to the old adage “curiosity killed the cat” with the retort “but satisfaction brought him back!” So even though I knew Patagonia would challenge me to reconsider some long held priorities and break through personal thresholds, the tap warranted investigation.
This willingness to step out of my comfort zone can also be credited to a different exploration begun six months prior after reading Ruby Warrington’s Sober Curious. Warrington digs into what life without drinking could look like, feel like, if one navigated the world without a cocktail elixir to magically break social ice or vanquish uncomfortable emotions in a puff of smoke. I had become increasingly unsettled by the promotion of a “mommy juice” culture as the 21st century version of “Calgon-take me away!” This was not a self-righteous position, quite the opposite. I had been questioning my bosom-buddy relationship with alcohol and was growing weary of the illusion. Liquid courage was revealing itself to be no more than a slight of hand and a temporary smokescreen. I said “yes” to the curious and found abstinence surprisingly easy.
After just a few nights of reaching for my NBF La Croix instead of ‘La Whatever’ requisite glass of meal prep wine, I was good. Seasonal social outings like Panther games and holiday parties presented their unique challenges, but also not a struggle. Knowing my triggers, I called them out. The result was an incredible, calm confidence and sense of freedom having clear lines and a pat personal understanding of “just say no.”
And then Patagonia - where my six month dry streak ended. I didn’t see that coming. On course I had faced my fears, successfully completed the journey and found myself wanting to celebrate in a traditional way. Feeling empowered and in the company of a tried and proven support group of friends (as 10 days mountaineering together truly does prove), the situation presented itself as the ideal safe place to try the cocktail coat back on to see if the fit had changed. I discovered the coat to still be sparkly and fun, but the fit little changed. Returning home, I re-committed easily to the pursuit of sober curious.
And then Covid with its unfathomable losses and lockdowns that kept going and going and going…I didn’t see that coming either.
But as we start to envision life on the other side of the pandemic, I now better appreciate that not all journeys have definable, clear cut ETAs. I believe curiosity is best honored when we have the courage to hang on even when diverted down unexpected routes.It is a process, but what better gift to give ourselves, our children, partners, family and friends than the grace and example of always seeking to grow no matter the age?