Ever Seen the Sunset in the Sky?
Love Taps, and the Art of Curiosity, Part II
Curiosity killed the cat. Or at least, that’s what they say.
A way for us to stay small. To stay still. To not ask too many questions.
But no one talks about the ending.
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
I’ve been thinking about the second half of the quote all of April, and I think we’ve been reading it wrong the entire time.
Onboard Southwest flight 2029 from Dallas to Baltimore. It just so happened to be a sunset flight, on the evening of a Scorpio full moon. I briefly browsed the movie options provided, but chose my book instead.
Something about the evening’s energy had me craving depth over entertainment.
I was engulfed in reading, but kept looking up to make sure I didn’t miss the sunset. Sunset above the clouds is something I’d experienced before, and one I was excited to receive again.
Then it happened.
A pinkish color lay beneath the clouds, the sun’s glow still catching the plane’s right wing. I felt magnetic to the sky. The same way I feel standing at the ocean.
A dark shadow began to rise as the color show slowly came to an end.
Then, out of nowhere, a new beam of light, far off in the distance.
My Goodness. The full moon.
I couldn’t catch my breath. I’m still trying to as I write this.
Earlier that day, I’d spent hours with a good friend admiring art and beauty. The Dallas Museum of Art. A constellation exhibit. Conversations about books, art, business, life. A bookstore. Browsing Soul and R&B records. Lake views. Venus day embodied.
We weren’t searching for anything in particular. We were just following the pull. Staying curious. Keeping our eyes open.
There is power in putting your head down and executing, but there is beauty in holding your head up and receiving.
So when they say curiosity kills the cat. Well, yes, it kills the stagnation, the part of you that is comfortable and complacent. The version of you that stopped looking up because she already knew what the sky looked like.
Curiosity kills the part of you that is no longer growing.
Following the curiosity, finding the beauty in receiving. Finding the satisfaction in arriving at something new and being inspired. This is where growth happens, where self-actualization is manifested.
This is what brings you back to you. Back to life. Back to wonder.
After the plane deboarded, I got into my Uber to head home. I looked up, and there she was again. I’m drawn to her energy, unable to look away. Searching for her in between the clouds as I travel through the city. Noticing no photos I captured compared to her beauty. And maybe I’m supposed to put my phone down and receive. Receive her insights. Receive her magic.
So, I did.
And between the sunset in the sky, being up in the clouds at 30,000 feet, and the full moon, the concept for my second book arrived.
I returned home to a package of herbs that I’d ordered. I’ve been feeling called to a 30-day parasite cleanse and am both excited and nervous.
May anything unaligned move out of my way. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.
Afraid of what might leave when I release my grip.
Excited for what will then return in its place.
Devoted to following the pull either way.
The cat never died from wanting to know. She became alive.
May I always have enough curiosity to keep looking up.
If this essay resonated and you’re ready to follow your curiosity, Creating Your Chapter Harmony, my 12-month guided self-care workbook, was made for exactly this. Available everywhere books are sold 🌹