Curiosity can lead you to unexpected joyful places and spaces

A few months ago, I took my car to get a couple of new tires. I left my car at the mechanic all day and when I returned I discovered their alignment equipment wasn’t working, so I would need to return another day to get my wheels aligned.  I felt dread when I thought about having to take my car back to the mechanic and wait around until the job was complete. Sitting in a small waiting room glued to my phone, playing whack-a-mole on email, or getting lost in social media was less than appealing. When I realized that there was a great opportunity to visit a local bakery I had not visited before that had the promise of some gluten-free delights for my gluten-intolerant body I knew that there was an adventure brewing. Because I wanted to wait for my car while it got fixed and thought a walk would be nice. And so I discovered that a bit of curiosity could lead to joyful places and spaces.

It was the perfect day for a stroll. The weather had the right amount of heat and sunshine juxtaposed with a slight breeze in the shade. As I walked to the bakery I could feel myself not at ease. I tend to have a bit of anxiety about the unknown, despite my propensity for adventure.  All I could think about on my 10-minute walk was, would it be a could place to sit for a while and enjoy an afternoon tea and treat. When I arrived at Sugar Butter Flour I was pleasantly surprised. The irony of being in a place filled with gluten-full baked goods did not escape me, but they had a lovely, not-too-sweet hot chocolate and chocolate macaron that hit the spot and enough seating to make it a delightful experience.  I spent 30 minutes observing customer after customer come in and smile at the treats and choices before them. This was a place where people could come to be happy and you, Creativity, were everywhere. In the the cakes, pastries, cookies, and of course those yummy macarons.

Tree lined suburban street with shade on sidewalks and street

With a flourless chocolate raspberry mini-cake and mango and chocolate macarons in hand, I set back to take a relaxed walk back to the mechanic. It was on this walk I rediscovered the joy of walking in a quiet neighborhood. The streets are so silent that you can listen to the wind and the birds, the gardens capture your attention, and the homes inspire dreams of a future home life you dream of. The beauty of this joyful space is that was free for the experience if you sought it out.  I felt at ease and could not remove the smile from my face, which had me thinking…

As I reflect on this unexpected adventure, I can’t help but feel grateful for your constant presence in our lives. I see you, Creativity, in the everyday choices we make, in the way we approach the mundane, and in how we transform the ordinary into something extraordinary. I wonder how often you watch us rush by, missing the opportunities you’ve carefully placed in our paths? How many times have you whispered to us, urging us to take that unfamiliar turn or peek behind that unassuming door? You were there in the bakery, of course, on prominent display through the colorful exhibition of treats. But you were also there in my decision to spend my time walking instead of peering at my phone, in the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, and in the quiet streets that became a canvas for daydreams and deep breaths.

I feel comforted knowing that you are waiting, just around the corner of our routines and surprises. You are there to encourage us to look at our familiar world with fresh eyes. What if, instead of seeing obstacles, we saw invitations to explore? What if each unexpected delay or change of plans became a doorway to a mini-adventure?

Creativity, you’ve shown me that joy doesn’t have to be planned or purchased. It’s freely available, hiding in plain sight, waiting for a curious heart to uncover it. May we all learn to see the world through your eyes, finding wonder in the everyday and turning life’s little inconveniences into unexpected delights.

I send my deepest gratitude for the adventure you’ve given me in a short walk, and in anticipation of the many more to come.

Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail