pre-game 90 protocol for players

Foster Curiosity 

 

“If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches.” – Rainer Rilke

 

I got everything I chased as a kid.

And the feelings I thought would permanently accompany my achievements had quickly vanished and had left me feeling empty. Which is exactly where this idea and the creation of this life principle started. 

 

Because before I arrived at the destination I’d set for myself, I would have called myself a relatively curious person. And the reason I say that is because I was ultra intentional about seeking advice from people who had acquired what I wanted, or at least what I thought I wanted. Not entirely the wrong idea. But maybe the wrong motivation. Bear with me.

 

The people I labeled “qualified” to seek advice from were the ones who were, in my eyes, successful. And success, back then, was a term I’d demarcated as materially wealthy, at least to some extent. Those who had the nice houses, the comfortable high-standard lifestyle, the nice cars, the expensive suits, the affluent neighborhoods. Those were the signs I looked for before I’d take someone’s advice.

 

And when someone of that perceived stature recommended a new habit, one they believed would raise my odds of success, I was quick to implement it. Whether it was “read seven books a year, wake up at five in the morning, journal gratitude, meditate, visualize, manifest your success, or save and invest your money,” it didn’t matter what it was. I adopted it without much hesitation. It didn’t matter how drastic the change to my life. I wanted that “success” more than anything. And my actions communicated that without question.

 

But why?

 

I was forced to investigate the “why” underneath it all, after the attainment of those goals didn’t prove to be as satisfying as I was sure they would be. Looking back, it’s clear that I had believed those acquisitions would make me happy and fulfilled. And why wouldn’t they, you might think. Everyone’s out to make a living, a good one at that, right?

 

But it’s apparent to me now that this aim, as many wonderful opportunities, as superb a lifestyle, and as respected a reputation as it gave me, wasn’t the end all be all I’d made it out to be. And it was only after the fulfillment of those fleeting desires that I opened myself up to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, the motivation of my aim was improper the whole time.

 

It wasn’t the things, the status, or the career that I wanted so desperately. It was the feelings I was certain would come with them, permanently.

 

“Once I do or get or achieve ______, then I’ll be ______.”

 

How many times have we all heard that? One too many.

 

So I sat with the harder question. If the fulfillment of my childhood dreams wasn’t the peak experience I’d built it up to be in my mind, then what? What was the lesson? What was I supposed to do, moving forward?

 

And then life answered in a way I didn’t ask for.

 

Because right around the time I was already confused and misguided, wrestling with all of this, came my time in Scotland. And my perceived failure there was the kind of setback that shakes you to your core, disorders your identity, and catches you completely off guard. 

 

If the emptiness cracked the door open, Scotland kicked it in.

 

And here’s what I’ve learned about moments like that. Your instinct, right when you get hit, is to close yourself off. Protect yourself. Refrain from ever putting yourself on the line again. And as logical as that seems in order to shield yourself from future pain, there’s great danger in following that line of thinking. Because if you aren’t curious and open, you’ll operate through life sheepishly, engaging in the same routines that are bound to produce the same, empty results.

 

Your greatest obstacle right now might just be your lack of awareness of who you are, what you want, and where you’re headed. And getting clear on that requires the ultimate sacrifice. The death of everything you’ve known. The shedding of your old, limited self. The dismantling of your ideals, beliefs, and concrete conclusions. You will forever remain in the dark, lurking in the shadow of your hidden potential, if you don’t get curious about how you can change, fundamentally, how you can improve yourself, and how things can be different for you, both internally and externally.

 

That kind of progress becomes impossible if you’re barricaded behind your own ideals, beliefs, and identity. You need to question and become aware of your beliefs on a foundational level. Is it even possible to discover the unknown possibilities that lie beyond our identities, to experience something different, to stay open, if we’re chained to these “selves” our environments have created for us? All that does is create confusion and division. It keeps us separated from our best selves and isolated in our own perceptions of the world.

 

So how do we become aware of the limits we’re setting on ourselves? How do we overcome these programmed ways of thinking so we can discover more, elevate further, and live more optimally?

 

Fostering curiosity is the how.

 

And the most practical place I’ve found to start is with your own reactions. When something hits me now, instead of letting the emotion run the show, I get curious about it. I treat the feeling as a messenger, and I ask it questions:

 

• Why am I feeling this way?
• What thoughts are inducing these feelings?
• What’s the story I’m telling myself?
• Why am I thinking these thoughts, and why am I reacting the way I am?

 

Always with curiosity at the base. That’s the practice. When I can activate real curiosity like that and sustain it, even when things get difficult, it keeps the extremity of my reactions to a minimum. It takes the power of control back into my own hands. Instead of reacting subconsciously, my mind on autopilot, closed off to whatever’s revealing itself in front of me, I’ve begun to understand my emotions more intricately. I can sit with them now. Because the truth is, the quality of my experience has always been shaped less by what happens and more by the thoughts I have about what happens.

 

Destroying your rigid desire for things to manifest in one way, and one way only, will foster awe, wonder, and appreciation for all of life. It will deepen your connection with others, with yourself, and with life itself. It will let you perceive your environment as an unfolding of events that happens for you, not to you.

 

Because there is a reason for everything you go through. Lessons in every loss. Seeds of character buried beneath the soil of every hardship. Profound wisdom in every tragedy. All of it meant to help you understand yourself better, richer, and deeper, so you can advance most productively. My own newfound curiosity, and my openness to life and to God’s guidance, has forced me to see a deeper connection with everything and everyone I encounter.

 

When nothing is certain, anything is possible.

 

For a long time, my inability to stay curious about everything and everyone I was encountering, especially the people and situations that were testing me, was feeding a spirit of confusion, separation, and fear. And in that inability to stay open, I grew anxious and depleted of hope. Because I was afraid to leave the comfortable state I’d grown accustomed to, the one where I tried to control every outcome in my life.

 

So I had to risk it. I had to let my guard down and let go of the desire to control the result, which was always far beyond my control anyway. And it’s often true that an invitation of this magnitude, the invitation to reframe your entire perspective on life, only shows up on the back end of some massive failure, heartbreak, or disappointment. Something that shakes you to your core, disorders your identity, or catches you completely off guard. Because change is hard, messy, and unfamiliar, and it usually takes something grand to spark the motivation to alter course. It’s only when the pain of staying the same finally outweighs the pain of changing that real change begins.

 

That’s exactly how I dug myself out of the pathological hole I found myself in after Scotland. Not with another plan or another habit. By getting curious again. I worked to unravel the lessons hiding inside my experiences, intentionally and intricately, and eventually I came to this: you’ll only begin to grow from, and eventually enjoy, all of your life when you can see that even the hardest moments are opportunities to learn and grow. To see them as God inviting you on an expedition to explore and better yourself. A pathway that reveals itself as you focus on the daily work of being the best you can be.

 

It’s our duty to choose faith in that path over fear of the unknown and uncertain. Not only because it serves our growth, but because our personal peace depends on it.

 

We can’t avoid the suffering and tragedy that are woven into life, especially for those who strive valiantly for lofty goals and ambitions. But we can choose to place our aim somewhere more sustainable. On something that helps us push through and outlast the difficult spells no matter when they arrive. It’s an exceptionally difficult thing to do, for a lot of reasons. But it’s a paradigm that, once you adopt it, lets you move through your turbulence as productively as possible, founded in genuine curiosity in the middle of the adventure. Because we’re all navigating this game of life to the best of our abilities, according to our circumstances, our experience, and our awareness. It’s a game that loves to throw the unexpected curve, to mislead us, to test us, to hand us obstacles and injustice and tragedy. And it still asks us to bring our best to the table and choose faith and curiosity anyway. Every single day. No matter what.

 

So this is my invitation to you.

 

Get curious. Play the game. Learn from what comes and choose to see everything that unfolds as a lesson meant to reveal your pathway forward, the one that supports the revelation of the next best version of you. Muster the courage to look back on your past, into your present, and out into your future with deep curiosity underneath all of it, so you can learn more about yourself, deconstruct the conditioning that’s keeping you isolated from real understanding, and experience the freedom that’s rooted in an inherent trust that what’s meant for you will make itself known. The teacher arrives when the student is ready.

 

Deepen your understanding of yourself by exposing the lessons your life is already offering. Magnify your curiosity. Multiply your fascination. Amplify the wonder you feel for whatever situations and interactions you find yourself in.

 

Your best self is on the other side.

 

Foster curiosity.