Wednesday, June 19, 2013


 was helplessly curious when I was younger, as most children are.

I bothered my parents with incessant questions, mostly about little things that don’t have simple answers—why do dogs bark instead of meow? How hard is it to become an astronaut? What is rice?

My mother would often respond with an exasperated “I don’t know.” Upon further questioning, her tone would become harsh, threatening. “I don’t know,” she’d say, “and it doesn’t matter. Go play.”

My father told me that he was the smartest man in the world. I believed everything he said, including that claim, so his tactic was to provide me with made-up answers.

For Christmas one year, I received the Big Book of Questions and Answers. While I enjoyed it thoroughly—devoured it, even, especially the section on human anatomy—I now realize that it was a tongue-in-cheek attempt at suppressing my curiosity.

Curiosity is something we lose as we grow up. Most of us have this tendency to stop searching, exploring, probing, and asking questions--things that come so naturally to us when we're young.

I long to tap into this aspect of the child-mind once again.

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