I used to think passion was the only thing that mattered when it came to achieving something. If I loved it enough, if I threw my whole heart into it, the rest would follow. But as I grow older, I’m realizing that passion alone isn’t enough to create real, sustainable growth—whether in life or in yoga. There’s another quality that works quietly in the background, just as important: curiosity.

This shift in my thinking was sparked by something Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in Big Magic. She invites us to consider that passion, while powerful, can also be intense, fleeting, and intimidating. Curiosity, on the other hand, is gentle and steady. It asks less of us, yet has the power to keep us moving forward, step by step, even when passion fades.

Passion is the fire that gets us started. Curiosity is what keeps us exploring long after the fire has cooled. It’s what allows us to look at the same pose, the same breath, the same moment—not with boredom, but with fresh eyes, as if we are seeing it for the first time.

In yoga, curiosity is a way of showing up on the mat with a willingness to learn from whatever unfolds—whether it’s the sweet ease of a well-practiced posture or the discomfort of tight hips that refuse to open. It asks us to replace judgment with inquiry: instead of “I’m terrible at balancing today,” we might think, “Interesting, my balance feels different today—what’s going on in my body? or What do I want to learn about myself in this moment?".

Unlike mindfulness, which simply asks us to notice what is, curiosity invites us to interact with it. It sparks questions, new possibilities, and fresh ways of moving. It gives us permission to experiment—trying different breath patterns, exploring variations of familiar poses, using props in unexpected ways—simply to see what happens.

When we practice curiosity, we begin to notice more than just the outer form of a pose. We feel into the subtler sensations: the way our breath shifts as we fold forward, the emotions that arise when we soften into a stretch, the thoughts that come and go like clouds overhead. This is where yoga becomes deeply personal.

Curiosity also dismantles the “shoulds” that creep into our practice—how a pose should look, how our body should respond. Social media often feeds these ideas, but yoga was never about achieving a picture-perfect shape. As Jason Crandell says, “Yoga is the perfect opportunity to be curious about who you are.”

Approaching the mat with curiosity changes everything:

• We stop measuring progress only by physical milestones.
• We listen more closely to our bodies’ signals.
• We let go of comparison and embrace our own unique path.
• We carry this openness off the mat into our relationships, work, and everyday life.

The yogic practice of Svādhyāya—self-study—is rooted in this same spirit. Curiosity shines light into the unconscious corners of our mind, helping us see the patterns, beliefs, and habits that shape our choices. Without it, we stay stuck. With it, we open to growth, healing, and freedom.

And perhaps most beautifully, curiosity invites play. It connects us to the wonder we had as children—discovering our toes for the first time, feeling our breath, marveling at the strength and flexibility of our own bodies.

Sometimes passion ignites the journey in a burst of fire, and other times the journey begins quietly, with the gentle spark of curiosity—slowly asking us to open new doors and lighting the way forward. On the mat and in life, curiosity is what keeps us present, and what keeps us growing.

So the next time you roll out your mat, let curiosity join you. Explore. Question. Feel. Notice. And see where it takes you.

‍