Begin Again: How Curiosity Heals Us

There’s a moment, sometimes subtle and sometimes seismic, when you realize you have the chance to begin again. Maybe it’s the first crisp morning after a long summer. Maybe it’s a job change, a new relationship, or even the quiet decision to show up differently in the one you’re already in.

I’ve learned that beginnings—whether chosen or thrust upon us—are vulnerable places. They ask something of us: a willingness to step into what we don’t yet know. And if you’re anything like me, that’s both exciting and a little unnerving.

This is where curiosity comes in.

In Buddhist teaching, there’s a concept called “shoshin”, or “beginner’s mind.” It’s the practice of meeting life without the heavy baggage of assumption, like holding a freshly sharpened pencil and a blank sheet of paper. We allow ourselves to be surprised. We let our defenses relax. We let life meet us where we are, without needing to prove we already have it all figured out.

Curiosity is the doorway to this space. It’s what allows us to ask questions instead of making quick judgments, to notice the smallest shifts, to give ourselves the grace of not knowing yet. And, maybe most importantly, it invites us to play again.

One of my favorite things about the Enneagram is how it helps us see our default settings—the familiar thought patterns, emotions, and behaviors that we return to again and again. While those patterns once served us, they can also keep us from experiencing something new.

The beginner’s mind asks each type to set down their well-worn script and step into uncharted territory:

Type One – Loosen the grip on “the right way” and explore the delight of imperfection.

Ask: What’s a messy, joyful way I could try this?

Type Two – Turn curiosity inward.

Ask: What do I need in this new season, before I meet anyone else’s needs?

Type Three – Experiment with letting the process matter more than the outcome.

Ask: What would I do if no one were watching?

Type Four – Let go of the need to deeper define this moment.

Ask: What if I just let this experience be exactly as it is?

Type Five – Step into the unknown without gathering all the data first.

Ask: What could I learn by simply doing?

Type Six – Be curious about trust.

Ask: What if this really could turn out well?

Type Seven – Resist the urge to skip ahead.

Ask: What’s here in this moment I don’t want to miss?

Type Eight – Experiment with releasing control.

Ask: What strength could emerge if I stayed open?

Type Nine – Lean into engagement.

Ask: What happens if I take the first step, even before I feel ready?

The beautiful thing about curiosity is that it softens us. It quiets the inner critic, diffuses our reactivity, and makes room for compassion, both for ourselves and for others.

When we’re curious, we don’t need to have the answers yet. We don’t need to rush the story forward or fix what feels unfinished. We can simply be with what *is*—and in that space, we discover that healing often happens quietly, in the background, as we gently turn toward life again.

So, as you step into this new season—whether that’s the literal shift from summer to fall, or a personal season that’s just beginning—what would it look like to greet it with the wide-eyed wonder of a beginner?

Ask one new question each day. Notice something small you’ve never noticed before. Try a way of being that feels fresh, even if it’s uncomfortable.

Because every day, no matter how far along the path we think we are, we have the chance to begin again.

And beginning again, with curiosity as our compass, just might be the most healing thing we ever do.

Love & Gratitude,

Katie