The Hazards of Being Curious
Field Notes from a Curious Life
If you are a curious person like me, you won’t be surprised when I tell you I have six email addresses with six Google drives, each one belonging to a different website, blog, project, or lifetime I've lived over the years.
Apparently, one Google Drive is not enough for all the idea trinkets that I have collected.
Each version of me had a dedicated home. The me who wanted to be a social changemaker. The me who became a garden designer and consultant. The graduate student. The writer. The collector of half-finished dreams and future plans.
The problem is that when you're looking for something you know you once saved, you can't bloody find it.
Did I tuck it away in my Little Free Library drive? My random Projects drive? The gardening one? Who knows?
Perhaps one day I'll rediscover the piece of writing I meant to share. Until then, I'll chalk it up to one of the hazards of being curious.
The curious life is a bit untidy. You collect more than you can possibly organize, wander down too many paths, and leave breadcrumbs everywhere.
But I think I’d rather spend my life searching for old treasures than wishing I’d never gone looking in the first place.