The Domino Effect of Curiosity

Curiosity is the unsung hero of everything good in my life. No, really—if my life were a country ballad (and let’s be honest, it often feels like one), curiosity would be the fiddle weaving through every chorus, holding it all together with a little sweetness and a little sass. It’s the spark that’s led me, sometimes gracefully and sometimes like a toddler in cowboy boots, to moments of connection, chaos, and clarity.

Take this for what it’s worth: my dad once told me that curiosity is the human version of a cat knocking over a vase. A little messy, sure, but sometimes you’ve got to break something to discover what’s hidden inside. For me, that vase-breaking moment has happened time and time again—from family dinners in Nashville to transformative relationships to learning how to make the perfect cup of 90-second microwave mug cake. Here’s what I’ve learned about the joy (and occasional awkwardness) of embracing curiosity in life and love.

Curiosity: The Unexpected Icebreaker

A few years ago, I went on a blind date. My best friend set us up, and the only prelude she gave me was, “He’s nice, but don’t ask about his opinion on sweet tea. It’s… unconventional.” Naturally, curiosity bit me hard in the middle of appetizers. Instead of avoiding the subject, I asked, “So what’s this I hear about you being anti-sweet tea?”

His eyes lit up, like I’d just opened Pandora’s box, and out came a 10-minute monologue about how he thinks sweet tea is a “syrupy conspiracy designed to rot the teeth of the South.” In the moment, I wasn’t sure if he was a secret genius or an escapee from a local think tank. But you know what? That tiny question—and his hilariously passionate response—turned the date into a memory I still share with friends. (The relationship didn’t last, but my curiosity-powered storytelling chops got stronger. Win-win.)

The point here isn’t to interrogate people about beverages like you’re auditioning for a role on "CSI: Sweet Tea Division." It’s that asking questions—even the slightly odd ones—can unlock unexpected gems of connection. People like to be known, to have something quirky about themselves noticed. So the next time you find yourself face-to-face with someone new, think of a question that goes a layer deeper than “What do you do for work?” Start with:

  • “What’s the last thing you Googled, and why?”
  • “If money wasn’t an issue, what random thing would you buy just for fun?”
  • “What’s a weird hill you’re willing to die on?”

Trust me—answers to these are rarely boring… and often hilarious.

Curiosity vs. Comfort Zones

Let me set the stage for high school Savannah: 16 years old, eyeliner way too heavy for a Tennessee summer, and entirely convinced I could sing my way onto "American Idol." (Plot twist: I couldn’t. I tried. Let’s not talk about it.) Growing up in a musical family meant I knew my home turf—harmony, pitch, lyrics that twisted you right in the gut. What I didn’t know was how to unwind that creativity into anything outside my comfort zone.

Cue the semester abroad in London. I knew approximately five things about British pop culture before landing at Heathrow: Hugh Grant, tea obsession, Shakespeare, the Tube, and… more tea. But when I walked into a crammed pub on my first week there, I spotted an open mic night sign-up sheet taped to the wall, and curiosity burrowed its mischievous little claws into me.

I bombed. I forgot half the words to Adele’s “Someone Like You” (because pressure turns brains into marshmallow fluff). And yet! What lit up my world wasn’t the singing but the crowd’s shared awkward laughter during my recovery attempt. By simply trying something unfamiliar, I got roped into hilarious conversations about everything from bad karaoke to the Oxford comma to why nobody in England actually pronounces the “t” in butter. Those little moments—the stumble, the shared vulnerability—became some of my sweetest memories abroad.

Here’s what’s true: Curiosity will likely yank you outside your comfort zone, and that’s where all the good stuff is hiding. So whether it’s signing up for a cooking class or chatting up that stranger who brought a pet iguana to Central Park (yes, this happened to me), lean into the awkward unknowns. Growth lives there.

Curiosity Is a Love Letter to Yourself and Others

What I cherish most about curiosity isn’t just what it draws out of others—it’s what it reveals about myself. In songwriting, I used to obsess over people’s favorite lyrics, wanting to uncover what stories resonated most with them. I figured if I could connect to their hearts, then they’d understand mine, too.

It’s the same in relationships. When you ask someone, “Hey, what never fails to make you laugh until you cry?” or “Tell me about a moment you felt most alive,” you’re not just gathering details for a scrapbook. You’re saying, “I see you. I want to know your world.”

But curiosity isn’t all outward-facing. It also nudges you to turn inward. What haven’t you learned about yourself yet? Have you ever asked yourself what kind of person you hope to be ten years from now—or five beers into a street festival taco truck line? Curiosity, in its gentlest form, is self-love. It’s the act of checking in on your dreams like you might check the mail: noticing the small joys, the little surprises, and giving them space to land.

Practical Curiosity in Action: A Cheat Sheet

Okay, so maybe you’re sold on curiosity but not sure where to start. Here are a few ways to weave it into your daily life, no singing Adele in front of strangers required:

  1. Be Spontaneous with Small Choices
    Order something off the menu you’ve never heard of. Take the scenic route home just because you’ve never driven that way before. (Unless you’ve got Nashville traffic, then just… maybe don’t.)

  2. Ask People Questions Without an Agenda
    The key is genuine curiosity without trying to impress anyone. Skip “What’s your five-year plan?” and aim for “What’s something you’d spend a Saturday doing, even if no one was watching?”

  3. Reevaluate Old Habits
    Have you been saying no to something because it feels too late to start? It’s not. I once convinced my dad to pick up the ukulele at age 58 because, as I reminded him, “Dolly didn’t build Dollywood in a day.”

  4. Go Down a Rabbit Hole for Fun
    Watch documentaries on topics you’ve never thought about before. (Might I suggest one on competitive table setting? It’s a thing. You’re welcome.) Sometimes learning something random for the sake of it brings unexpected joy.

Wrapping It Up: Let Curiosity Be Your Compass

Life, much like Southern summers or country music, has a way of getting sticky and complicated. But curiosity? Curiosity pulls you close, tilts your chin up, and says, “Let’s go see what happens.” Whether it’s a strange hill someone’s willing to die on or a new skill you’ve been shy to try, leaning in feels like a love letter to the unknown—and to yourself. So go ahead: ask that question. Take the weird scenic route. Order the mystery tea. Just maybe don’t knock over any literal vases while figuring it all out.

And hey, if you do? I’d love to hear that story.