Reclaiming Curiosity in a “Ho-hum” World
From this increasingly sped-up, dumbed-down, 140-character world of quick, shallow experiences and relationships, a new generation of thinkers is emerging. Yearning for substance, hungry for real, first-hand relationships with each other and with Nature, we are beginning to realize that very little of this occurs without our willingness to notice and appreciate things not readily apparent.
by Jeffrey Willius
- There was a kid on my stepson’s little league baseball team. He wasn’t especially big nor good looking. But the way he moved to pick up a ground ball and throw it to first base was so natural, so pure, that I couldn’t stop watching him. He had, at the age of ten, a degree of that intensity and self-assurance you see in some professional athletes—the Michael Jordans, the Derrick Jeters, the Roger Federers. I hoped he’d grow up using that charisma for good.
She had the refinement of old money, but without the damage.
- A 17- or 18-year-old girl who was sitting in front of me at a children’s piano recital had an unusual radiance. I picked up on it even though I never saw more than the back of her head and an occasional profile. What was it, the way she encouraged her little brother—one of the performers? Or was it was how she looked at, and listened to, her parents, seated on either side of her. It struck me that she had the refinement of old money, but without the damage it so often inflicts. From those few impressions, I felt I could see the kind of life she would lead. And, while a bit disconcerting, I found that inkling, more than anything, reassuring.
- I was on one of those “chicken buses” in rural Guerrero, Mexico. A heavy-set, plain-faced, 30-something woman got on at Los Achotes and sat across from me. Something about her just caught my eye. Maybe it was just the careful manner of her dress. But the more I looked—trying not to be too creepy—the more I could tell that her surface beauty went deep. I could see it in her posture and in her eyes. I’m sure this woman had experienced her share of the unrelenting challenges facing most poor Mexican women. It wasn’t just that she wore that abrasion well; somehow she’d managed to gild it—she shone that brightly.