Let Curiosity Lead the Way
Some birthdays are like ridgeline pauses: quiet, reflective, a moment to take in the view. Others feel like full-on jungle treks: chaotic, electric, and alive with riddles you never saw coming.
This year? It was the jungle.
After a slow morning with Gracie wandering the Denver Art Museum, where brushstrokes told centuries of stories. I dropped her off and picked up Ella, who had very different ideas about how to spend the day.
She didn’t want Monet. She wanted mayhem. Dinosaurs, to be exact.
The Curiosity Compass: Letting Your Child Lead
A Jurassic Park–themed escape room nestled in Westminster, CO. It was her idea, her passion, her latest obsession. And it reminded me: when we follow our children’s curiosity, we’re not indulging a whim, we’re honoring a fundamental engine of development.
Psychologist Dr. Susan Engel calls curiosity “the linchpin of intellectual development.” It’s the spark behind creativity, resilience, and lifelong learning. And for children, it often shows up loud, messy, and delightfully unpredictable. In the form of dinosaur trivia, slime experiments, or riddles scrawled in invisible ink.
So we followed it.
From the moment the guide warned of jump scares, Ella clung to my hand, a mix of nervous giggles and whispered “what ifs.” But something shifted once we stepped across the threshold. Her fear didn’t disappear. It evolved. It became fuel.
She started scanning the room like a raptor on the hunt, not for prey, but for clues. Her mind clicked into gear. She connected symbols, solved riddles, and fear gave way to focus.
I watched her transform. From hesitant to headstrong, from wary to wild-eyed. And all I did was follow her lead.
From Fear to Focus: A Bravery Transformation
What I witnessed in Ella that day wasn’t just play. It was bravery unfolding in real time.
That’s exactly what Ella did. She felt the fear, and kept moving. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Because her joy was louder than her fear.
And isn’t that what we all need sometimes? A guide who holds our hand just long enough to steady us, then releases it so we can fly.
The Sacred Space of Shared Presence
We did make it out, with fifteen minutes to spare, thanks to some well-earned clues. But the real victory wasn’t solving the room. It was what happened inside it.
Somewhere between the jungle vines and flickering lights, we had entered a sacred space. A space where I didn’t have to teach, correct, or coach. I just had to be. To witness her light. Laugh with her. To walk the twists and turns beside her with reverence.
It reminded me of something Dr. Dan Siegel often says: “Where attention goes, neural firing flows, and neural connection grows.”
Translation? What we notice and respond to with presence actually shapes our child’s brain. That hour in the dark wasn’t just fun. It was bonding, and brain-building. It was trust; woven moment by moment, giggle by giggle, clue by clue.
Wonder in the Wilderness of Parenting
Later that, back at my aunt and uncle’s house tucked in the Colorado foothills, I was unwinding when Ella snuck away and returned holding a homemade card. She’d secretly planned a birthday surprise with my aunt.
Inside it read:
“Daddy, I love you soooo much. You will always be my best friend. Love, Ella.”
I’ve summited 14,000-foot peaks. I’ve stood breathless at mountain vistas. No view has ever undone me like that little card did.
And maybe that’s the mystery we’re meant to solve. That sacred isn’t always scenic. That bonding doesn’t require blueprints. That wonder is born in the unlikeliest places, even in a jungle escape room with flickering lights and rubber raptors.
Presence Is the Real Escape Plan
We live in a culture obsessed with performance: grades, goals, growth curves. But kids don’t need performance perfection. They need presence.
They need to see our eyes light up when they light up, to hear that their questions matter more than our schedules. And they need to know that we will follow them into the jungle; not to rescue, but to bear witness.
That’s how trust is built, how courage takes root. The next time your child invites you into their strange, creative, chaotic world…say yes. Not because you love dinosaurs or escape rooms. But because you love them. Because connection doesn’t wait for the perfect moment. It hides in the unexpected ones.
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