The Closest Thing to Magic
Through curiosity, we reach outward. Through courage, we open inward. Connection is where they meet, and where life, in all its miraculous unlikeliness, becomes something that feels worth living.
This is an exploration of the relationship between curiosity and courage, and the roles they play in the way that we connect, to each-other, to the world around us or to something greater than ourselves.
Curiosity: The Spark of Connection
True curiosity for another person is a beautiful thing.
It’s an intimate act, almost sacred in its simplicity. To be genuinely curious about someone - who they are, why they are the way they are - is to say, “I see you. I want to understand.”
Such curiosity can unlock parts of ourselves we didn’t even know existed. It’s incredible what we can learn about life, and about our own minds, simply through understanding another person.
We are all unique and complex beings. The truth is, we don’t know what we don’t know. When we dig into the mind of another, someone whose experiences, thoughts, and feelings contrast our own, we give ourselves the gift of expansion. We open the possibility of learning something that would have been impossible to discover alone.
But curiosity alone isn’t enough. You also have to make a choice: the decision to connect.
Courage: Crossing the Threshold
Many people wish for deeper relationships but aren’t willing to step outside their comfort zone to build them. It takes courage and vulnerability to speak your desires, to risk rejection, to say, “I want to know you.” But once you pass that hurdle, you’re standing right on the edge of enlightenment.
And beyond that, you need the patience and intention to stay engaged.
Listening actively. Listening to understand, not to respond.
We spend so much time trying to relate conversations back to our own lives, when sometimes what’s needed most is simply devotion; the act of giving another person your full, undivided attention. When you do that, you stop being thrown off by contrast. You stop shutting down when someone doesn’t think like you. You start learning.
These are the greatest opportunities for growth: the people who challenge you, who show you another way of seeing the world.
To do that, you need curiosity, but you also need courage. To realise that the risk involved is entirely your own perception, and to will yourself forward whilst embracing your fear.
When we crave connection, insecurity comes along for the ride.
What if they don’t want to know me? What if they think I’m strange? What if I embarrass myself?
These fears feel huge, but they’re rarely grounded in anything real. Even if the ‘worst’ happens and someone says “no”, it’s such a small thing in the grand scheme of life. The fear is all about us, not the other person.
Those who realise that “no” isn’t the end of the world are free to keep trying, to keep opening, until they find the people who meet them in kind.
And then there’s the other fear, the one we talk about less: the fear of succeeding. Because if you do connect, you suddenly have something precious to lose. Yet if we gave into that fear every time, we would never find joy in anything, simply because we did not want to lose it. Letting go of that imagined loss is how we find peace in the present.
“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
Connection: The Shared Magic
I recently heard someone say that, when asked: “what’s more important: the journey or the destination?” They answered, “the company.”
At first, I wanted to disagree, but the more I thought about it, the more it resonated. Independence and self-understanding are beautiful and necessary, but the greatest treasures in life lie in shared experience.
All great art, in some way, is an expression of connection: the conversation between hearts, between perspectives, between the artist and the world. Every painting, song, poem, or philosophical teaching ultimately speaks to the relationships we foster, whether that is with another person, with the world around us or even with some higher power.
Connection might be the most ethereal thing that we can experience. And what’s more amazing is that, even after centuries of study and exploration by the greatest minds to have lived, we still don’t fully understand it. It might be the closest thing to magic we have.
And it’s not a rare magic. It’s right there, in everyday life.
For me, it’s in those moments when you’re surrounded by people you love (or even strangers) and you suddenly stop. You feel yourself almost leave your body for a second, looking down at this perfect little scene: uncontrollable laughter, warmth and honesty, the air buzzing with shared energy.
For others, it may be their furry friend tackling them to the ground, the second they walk through the front door. Or the clouds parting at exactly the right moment, in a way that feels like a sign from the universe that lets them know that they are on the right path.
In that moment, everything feels still and enough. You’re overcome by affection and gratitude, and you realise that this is what makes life beautiful. It’s a feeling that cannot exist alone, but it is all too easy to miss if you do not stop to take notice.
Awe: Falling Back in Love with the World
Of course, it is often much harder to see these things when you are caught in cycles of stress or exhaustion. When your mind is noisy, it’s almost impossible to notice beauty in the small things. You become paralysed.
If I could lift someone out of that fog, even for a moment, I’d start by finding what lights up their soul. The thing that makes their eyes widen, their breath slow. It’s different for everyone, but it’s always there somewhere, waiting.
For me, I found it through curiosity. I started asking questions about things I’d once taken for granted. I’d look at a plant and think: there are atoms forming cells forming structures that allow this living thing to exist. To grow, to thrive, to reach toward the light.
How unbelievably lucky am I to witness that?
Once I made that connection, I couldn’t unsee it. Now, every time I see a plant, I am amazed. It might sound small or silly, but those small things add up. They completely change the way you experience the world.
If we are searching for purpose or wondering what the point of it all is: starting to understand the world, even in tiny fragments, can bring us closer to a sense of peace. Each little discovery feels like progress in answering the “big why”. I think that’s why it moves us so deeply.
And when curiosity turns to awe, we naturally seek connection. It’s like a child discovering something new, so excited to share it they can hardly contain themselves. We are hard-wired to share emotion, to turn wonder into togetherness. The joy of learning and noticing somehow doesn’t feel complete until it’s been seen by another pair of eyes.
Meaning: Where It All Comes Together
Through all of this, it seems that connection plays a much bigger role than I had ever realised.
People near the end of their lives don’t talk about the things they owned or the goals they achieved, they talk about love. They say they can die happy because they’ve loved and been loved. Or they regret not spending more time with the people who mattered.
At the end of the day, connection is what gives us reason to go on.
And when all of this comes together, I think that’s the closest we ever get to complete contentment. It’s the same peace that monks and mystics talk about. Because even when everything else falls apart, this cycle - courage to open, curiosity to learn, awe to feel, and connection to share - can carry you through. It can lift you out of the darkest places and remind you that life is still, somehow, a gift.
Our world is extraordinary. This life is a miracle.
The chances of us being here at all are unimaginably small.
But through our constant desire to understand how and why it all came together, we find the answer to a different question entirely: what’s the point of it all?
You can be as intelligent, as wise, as successful as it’s possible to be, and yet none of it means anything if it isn’t shared.
Because in the end, connection is everything.
What’s the closest thing to magic in your own life right now? The details, the people, the small moments you might have overlooked. I’d love to hear about it!
