What are you curious about?

What I’m curious about…

isn’t just the big question — “What’s my purpose?” —

but the quiet weight it carries

when no one’s watching,

when the world is still,

and I’m left alone with myself.

I’m curious if purpose is something we find —

like a coin in the dirt —

or something we make,

like a home from nothing but wood and will.

Is purpose a path laid before me?

Or am I laying it brick by brick

with every choice I make,

every no I say,

every yes I whisper?

I wonder if I’ve already brushed up against it

in the moments that felt too small to matter—

the late-night talks,

the ache in my chest when someone hurts,

the words I write that no one sees.

I don’t need the full answer yet.

But I want to feel closer.

I want to know if the ache to know

is the very thing that makes me alive.

And maybe that’s part of it.

Maybe curiosity is the beginning of purpose.

Thank you guys for reading. Your time is greatly appreciated. Don’t forget to subscribe and feel welcome to contact me direct. Thanks again! ❤️📚📪

—Jason©️