What do you see? And think? And feel? And wonder? And desire?
Life through the eyes of a preschooler is one of the most incredible views anyone can find. And each of us was there at one time. I think the same is true of a true scientist.
I realize you may take my next statement as political, but I’m going to let it fly anyway: These days, it’s hard even to know what it means when someone says “follow the science.” More and more science seems to conflict with itself. That, in itself, makes me wonder.
But back to “true scientists,” those ruddy little preschoolers who love looking at things for the first time and enjoy, simply enjoy. Until someone forces them to categorize things as good or bad, black or white, wrong or right. And somehow, the curiosity starts seeping out on our way to adulting.
Have you noticed how hard it is as an adult to truly “wonder” about something? Or truly have an experience, an event, a “something” (or someone) take your breath away?
Have you been to the Grand Canyon lately? Have you seen an active volcano, or gone whale watching? Have you looked at ants up close with a magnifying glass (without that nagging urge to focus the sunlight on them and fry those little buggers)?
I imagine what it must have been like for “man one,” a.k.a. Adam, to commune with His Creator, as he fulfilled his responsibility of naming animal after animal. Ummm, “Best Friend? I’m calling this one an aardvark, but what WERE you thinking?! And this giraffe? Seriously, what’s up with the neck? And the skunk; OMG, the smell?!” I can only imagine Adam’s questions were endless, and about halfway into the “name game,” it was “what’s for lunch?”
“The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day.” Albert Einstein “Old Man’s Advice to Your: ‘Never Lose a Holy Curiosity.’’ LIFE Magazine, 1955.
I know, I know, life happens fast these days. There’s not much time for questions and curiosities. But what if, just what if, you planned some curiosity into your calendar? And took your preschooler along for the ride? What could YOU possibly notice you hadn’t noticed before? What would she notice? What would he find?
What if you made an effort to recapture your inner preschooler and tried to see and think and feel and wonder and desire like your preschooler? Maybe if your learning has slowed to a crawl, you could reenergize it by asking your preschooler to be your teacher. Hmmmm.
Would that change your experience from a normal bug-crushing, rock-kicking experience to a more full-orbed sensory experience? I’d bet on it.
Curiosities and questions are great companions. They serve each other well. And most of all, they serve you and me well.
Want to work on being curious? Want to become a scientist in your own right?
Let’s do it!
