There are only a few paths to consistent growth once you reach adulthood. One is to seek out new and unique experiences; that becomes harder with each go around. Another is to look inward and examine your own beliefs and understanding of the world, reshaping your perspective. But the most consistent form of growth that I have encountered thus far is curiosity. The urge to learn. When we challenge ourselves to learn something new or master a new skill, we grow, even when we fail. So that curious nature is one that will inevitably lead to growth and evolution as we force ourselves again and again to reassess our own capabilities; our own limitations.

I was recently laid off from my long-term job as a Communications Specialist at Brown University. That was a major setback in my career, there’s no denying it. But in two months since I left Brown, I feel I have grown more than I did in the entire two years prior. Why? Necessity, you might say. I had to grow to survive. That’s true, I was forced into a position of action. But there’s more to the story than that. 

After leaving Brown I was confronted with the endlessly unstructured prospect of unemployed life. That abyss of free time into which I might so easily fall. But in those first few weeks I had a few personal projects already underway, making my path forward more clear; at least in the short term. So I used that inertia to make progress on the home front, and became curious about what I could tackle now that I had the time and energy to do so. Soon I was researching fencing and vent ducts and electrical best practices, expanding my horizons into the arena of home improvement.

After more than a month of work both inside and outside the house, my job search was beginning to run out of steam. I had exhausted the pool of readily available applications in the field I want to enter, gaming, and was now beginning to scrape the bottom of the barrel for other communications work. But as I did, the idea struck me that there was more I could be doing to improve my chances of breaking into the field. So I reassessed my relevant skills, and found myself lacking in the digital storytelling department. What a glaring gap to have for someone hoping to become a game writer. That day I looked up Twine, a digital storyboarding software, and got to work.

These instances of seeking new information or skills don’t just appear by accident. Occasionally we might wander into an activity or a field that we fall in love with, but for my money it takes the act of questioning basic facts to consistently expand our horizons. Wondering aloud, “Where does that pipe go?” Or “How much would it cost to publish a board game?” These are the nuggets of curiosity that I have trained myself to ask, and then let my imagination lead me to their deeper truth.

That is why I know my time out of the workplace has been well spent, and why it will continue to be well spent. I am and will remain curious about the world around me. I’ll keep asking questions about game design, about career moves, about home improvement, and anything else I choose to spend my time on. That’s what growth means. And that’s what keeps expanding my horizons.