I used to love eating biscuits. Especially cream biscuits. And especially the cream part. Well, it's not as simple as it sounds though. There's The Ritual. Oh yes, the age old, childhood ritual of the Proper Way of Eating A Cream Biscuit. You take a piece out of the pack, which in my childhood used to be mostly Britannia orange cream or Bourbon. Then you feel the texture of that filling, and then start licking the cream. Of course, you had to eat the biscuit part of it... Your mom didn't like it when she opened the biscuit box only to see licked biscuits! Nobody had to tell you about the Ritual. You discovered it on your own. The moment you realised that the cream was the most interesting part of the package, getting to that part was just an obvious step.
But this seemingly obvious step is always not so obvious. We did practice a similar kind of procedure for our toys, too. May it be a nice remote controlled car or a gun with sound and flashing lights or a plain talking doll... we had to open it up, one way or other, just to see the innards. We would be intrigued by this little piece of machine. We would be curious to know what exactly lied inside, how it worked. We would usually try to open it, initially by 'hook' or in some cases by 'crook'. In some cases, the force of curiosity would be so overwhelming that it would become necessary that the toy meet with some sort of 'accident', so that we could carry on our investigations without incurring the wrath of parents. There certainly wouldn't be any cream inside, yet the whole process of dismantling and exploring would always be equally satisfying.
All of us have similar childhood experiences. This spirit of exploration is an innate quality. We are fundamentally a curious creature. That makes us explore. That makes us go where no man has gone before, do things that no man has done before. More often than not this exploration is done without thinking about the consequences. That's really remarkable! When we are young, this curiosity is aimless. A child would apply her zeal to investigate to anything and everything that comes in her path. As we grow up, we learn to tame this wild urge inside us. We set goals, we focus the zeal onto a particular aim. When we check the list of famous explorers we always find the reason why they went 'out there'. All the great artists, philosphers, scientists were explorers just like a Columbus or an Armstrong or a Hillary. We claim that they did it for a reason... right from things like spices, minerals, diamonds to reasons like knowledge and world-dominance.
But in all honesty, we will do it even if there is no reason at all. When a mountaineer was asked why he climbed mountains, he said, "because they are there." Deep within our subconscious there is always that urge to explore... an urge so primordial in its nature that no external factors like absence of need/requirement/necessity etc could ever affect it. All we can do is give it a softer name like 'risk-taking ability'. We may call it by any name, but let's recognise it for what it is and let's celebrate it for what it is. After all, life's most significant moments are really not the "Eureka!" moments, but they are the moments when we say to ourselves, "Hmmmm! Let's try this and see what happens."
But this seemingly obvious step is always not so obvious. We did practice a similar kind of procedure for our toys, too. May it be a nice remote controlled car or a gun with sound and flashing lights or a plain talking doll... we had to open it up, one way or other, just to see the innards. We would be intrigued by this little piece of machine. We would be curious to know what exactly lied inside, how it worked. We would usually try to open it, initially by 'hook' or in some cases by 'crook'. In some cases, the force of curiosity would be so overwhelming that it would become necessary that the toy meet with some sort of 'accident', so that we could carry on our investigations without incurring the wrath of parents. There certainly wouldn't be any cream inside, yet the whole process of dismantling and exploring would always be equally satisfying.
All of us have similar childhood experiences. This spirit of exploration is an innate quality. We are fundamentally a curious creature. That makes us explore. That makes us go where no man has gone before, do things that no man has done before. More often than not this exploration is done without thinking about the consequences. That's really remarkable! When we are young, this curiosity is aimless. A child would apply her zeal to investigate to anything and everything that comes in her path. As we grow up, we learn to tame this wild urge inside us. We set goals, we focus the zeal onto a particular aim. When we check the list of famous explorers we always find the reason why they went 'out there'. All the great artists, philosphers, scientists were explorers just like a Columbus or an Armstrong or a Hillary. We claim that they did it for a reason... right from things like spices, minerals, diamonds to reasons like knowledge and world-dominance.
But in all honesty, we will do it even if there is no reason at all. When a mountaineer was asked why he climbed mountains, he said, "because they are there." Deep within our subconscious there is always that urge to explore... an urge so primordial in its nature that no external factors like absence of need/requirement/necessity etc could ever affect it. All we can do is give it a softer name like 'risk-taking ability'. We may call it by any name, but let's recognise it for what it is and let's celebrate it for what it is. After all, life's most significant moments are really not the "Eureka!" moments, but they are the moments when we say to ourselves, "Hmmmm! Let's try this and see what happens."
