There’s a lot of talk about ageing or ‘getting old’. Discussions of another grey hair. The next best collagen cream or wrinkle treatment. And whether you’re someone who embraces ageing naturally or invests in beauty products to smooth out some lines, that’s ok. That’s just not really the point here, or the type of ageing I mean.
The thing I keep thinking about is not whether I’ll get crow’s feet or need glasses, it’s whether I’ll stop asking questions. Whether I’ll let routine be the main theme in my life. Whether one day I’ll wake up and realise I haven’t tried anything new in months. A new book. A crazy adventure. A conversation that makes me rethink everything. A new business idea.
The idea that I might stop being curious about the world in the time I’m here is exactly why I keep chasing wonder.
I’ve always been one of those people that notices the small things. I guess you could say I see the magic in life. I’ve travelled to some pretty cool places and seen a lot. But as time goes on it’s easy to feel like you’re settling into a life of routine. It almost feels like that’s the norm… you’re older now, you have to stop adventuring, work harder, pay the bills, sort out that ‘life admin’.
But when you think about it, someone else, a long time ago, made all that stuff up anyway. Work, money, business days, even time. And while it’s still important to be able to live and function in today’s society, somewhere along the way, we might start to believe we’ve outgrown our adventurous spirit.
We often treat curiosity like it’s something for the young. For the wide-eyed children, early-career creatives, the Gen Z squad with less fear of looking foolish. But I’d argue it’s even more important as we get older. It keeps us awake and appreciating this beautiful life we have. It allows for reinvention, not out of crisis, but out of desire.
I don’t want to become someone who shrinks their world to fit what they already know. I want to stay surprised, even if it’s scary. I want to keep getting excited about the world, music, nature, or watching someone do something I’ve never seen before. I want to say “tell me more” or “I’m in” well into my seventies.
Maybe the trick is to remember what it felt like to be a kid, before we learned to hesitate and when we climbed trees just to see the view, or asked questions just to know.
Writing a thought piece isn’t about offering a solution, it’s just about sparking something, or allowing yourself to question something. I think for me, curiosity is choosing to believe there’s still more to see. More to learn. More to love. Even now. Especially now.
In fact, it might be the most underrated anti-ageing tool of all.
What are you still curious about? Maybe you’d even like to make a ‘curiosity bucket list’. Here’s some ideas:
Read a book from a genre you usually avoid.
Take a different route home.
Ask someone about a hobby they have.
Cook one dish from a different culture.
Look up at the stars.
Sit in a café and write down five things you notice… really notice.
Strike up a conversation with someone older than you.
Try a new hobby with no intention of being ‘good’ at it.
Visit a museum or gallery and go slowly.
Revisit something you used to love doing as a kid.
Say yes to an invite you’d usually turn down.
Write a list of places you’d still love to visit, and why.
Sign up to a newsletter from a creative or thinker you admire.
Let yourself be bad at something (and do it anyway, even if it’s dancing in your living room).
Wear the thing you’ve always wanted to wear, and not because it’s trendy.
Try a food you’ve never eaten before, even just a bite.
Ask a friend: what’s something you’re curious about right now?
Let someone else plan your day (just once).
Go for a walk in the forest, and just take it all in.