Curiosity Is Not Cereal

What does the worker gain from his struggles? I have seen the task that God has given people to keep them occupied. He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also put eternity in their hearts, but man cannot discover the work God has done from beginning to end. Eccl. 3.9-11

Do you remember what it was like to watch an ant crawl through the cracks and crevices of your school grounds? Or to peer through the gap between the seat and the seatbelt buckle to see what mysteries lay hidden underneath the car? Did you ever wonder why parrots talked and other birds cawed? Do you remember…the last time you looked up the night sky?

For those of you who’ve reached the elusive status of ‘grown up’ you may remember the world back then was an interesting place. Somewhere and somehow the same spark behind every question ‘why?’ was extinguished in you, leaving only dull eyes beholding a gray world. You’ve seen it all before. As the great philosopher Peter Griffin said, ‘silly rabbit, Trix are for kids.’ I used to love eating Trix cereal. It had every color of the rainbow and was sold by a rabbit. Of course I had to eat it. But once I found that it was just sugar and coloring it gradually lost its sheen. Now I’ve replaced it with granola and oats. I’ve gone from eating the rainbow to eating like a horse; much better. But I had to outgrow Trix cereal if I didn’t want diabetes.

But it seems absurd to me that our curiosity often takes the same path. Have our lives become completely boring? No wonder we can’t seem to stop trying to avoid it ourselves. Few last more than a few minutes face to face with themselves. It’s probably why smart phones sell faster than hot cakes. One tap can transport you into an LED world filled with news and videos of whats not happening to you. Another glittering world seems to lie at your fingertips and the more you stay in it, the darker the adult world seems when you return back from your trip to the digital ether. Rather than grow with us, it is as though someone had taken our curiosity out the backdoor and put a bullet in his head. He had caused enough trouble as it was and for Mr. Certainty’s sake, his services were no longer required.

I’ve often wondered what role curiosity plays in our lives. Do we reach a stage where we can stop and stay where we are? It doesn’t seem humanly possible. Imagine working in an office where your role was to sharpen pencils. You sharpen a pencil one at a time until thousands are completed. But every morning the pencils return blunt. The same cycle repeats until you are old and gray and ready to go home. Insanity would not be far off. Yet a cat seems to have no problem with the same life, day in and day out. My cat wakes, eats, sleeps, plays and sleeps. She does this from dawn to dusk, Monday to Sunday. All the while her body ages and her whiskers grow longer. We seem to be the only particular beings who need to pursue something endlessly. The athlete who wins a championship is no longer a success the moment he gets it because in doing so he’s no longer winning it.

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity.

I don’t think we’re drawn to an achievement but rather the pursuit of infinite goodness, truth and beauty. In each of us a void exists that seeks to rise above where we are now to grasp where we could be. The world shows us that finite beings don’t strive for infinite things. Animals don’t know that one day they will die. They don’t care about living on or being remembered. Yet every desire that I’ve ever had correlated to an object I could find in it. My hunger shows me that I need food. My thirst reminds that I need water. My loneliness draws me to find a friend. And so I must also conclude that my insatiable curiosity leads me to a world beyond this unbearable lightness of being. So our curiosity draws us from where we are to where we could be but it is a pity that it too often dies a lonely death.

Because you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in thee. Augustine, Confessions