One co-founder’s changing definition of exploration
Explore: it’s in some ways one of the most natural behaviors known to humans. For me, it’s been foundational in how I interact with the world. I’ve always had a burning curiosity to understand the world around me. I remember being in class as a kid, being told that I was asking too many questions, specifically “why?”
As an adult, I was able to monetize that curiosity professionally. In the business of cultural insights where we’re supposed to uncover information, connect unseen dots, and synthesize esoteric, complex concepts into simple, applicable findings.
But beyond that, my relationship with exploring has evolved as I’ve aged. “Explore” is a much more nuanced word than to simply go out and experience the world. It’s not just an external directive - it’s also an internal one too. It embodies my wild spirit and my adventurous soul, more than any specific activity or experience.
Many of my life choices and experiences have fit within society’s traditional definition of exploring: as a neophile, I love trying new things. For years, I planned much of my travels around seeing new (to me) destinations. If I could try out a new activity, even better. That led me to an ice camp on an enormous frozen lake in Siberia, a horseback ride across Mongolia, and a trek to Everest Base Camp. Those were some of the most unexpected + formative experiences of my life. Within my hometown of NYC, I kept lists of new (mostly sushi) restaurants to try. I watched nearly every new TV pilot that aired (the first episode, at least!) to be knowledgeable about the entertainment business. I always added on extra travel to any business trip, maximizing the destination to see more of the world. I worked happily and hard, putting in long hours, and then made the absolute most of my somewhat scarce free time.
After a few adult years of this, I started to realize some of this exploration was opportunistic, for sure - but relaxing? Not always. I remember learning about the theory of maximizers and satisficers from my ever-sage brother and thinking how nice it would be to take a reprieve from needing to explore, and instead just exist peacefully.
I started to find that peace in 2018 when I fulfilled a lifelong dream to move out West. I had increasingly found nature to be a solace when I lived in New York, escaping more and more often to the family farm in rural PA. It was a comforting, reliable place that required minimal planning. I knew that the expansive mountains of California and the rush of the Pacific Ocean would ultimately be my destination, it just took me a long time to figure out how that shift would happen. In some ways, the move was the longest and easiest decision of my life, though it wasn’t without challenges. Thanks to an excellent work scenario and a wonderful support system, I felt at home almost instantly and knew the West was indeed the right fit for me.
The move (and the subsequent pandemic) would also catalyze a different style of exploration - one that was less intense and more symbiotic. With so much to explore within California, the need to escape wasn’t driving my exploration. Instead, I was in love with the natural wonders of my home region. But moreover, I start settling into my curiosity — setting more boundaries with it. I could revisit the same trails and the same places and find new things to enjoy every time. I didn’t need to watch all the TV or read all the books. I could prioritize. I could appreciate someone else’s trip without adding the destination to my own to-do list. I could think about what I really wanted in the present moment without overly optimizing the maximum exploration benefit.
Nearly four years into being here, I have planted roots with a partner, and a dog, and realize that the comfort of ritual is as much of an exploration for me after years of leaning into the novelty aspect of exploring. For others who know me, this shift may seem subtle or not noticeable. I still travel (less, but more intentionally), and hike a lot (after ACL surgery, it’s a gentler pace), and I will always love trying new things. But my greatest exploration is still within myself, learning how to both activate and quiet my mind. Linda (my business partner) and I spent a week this year at neurofeedback training, largely in solo pods, listening to the sound of our brain waves and exploring our inner psyches. We walked away lighter, having freed ourselves from inefficient thought patterns, and with a greater understanding of how our brains are beautifully compatible, but also quite different.
All the exploring has shown me that the earth is a magical place and I’ll never stop learning about it — the inner wild in me is a flame that won’t extinguish. It’s the spirit of rebellion and adventure that I feel when I am able to wander freely. But the rush to explore is also experienced as a pause — a moment to rest in awe and wonder, reflecting on all the territory I’ve already traversed and how grateful I am for the opportunity. So for all you explorers out there, I encourage you to enjoy the art of exploration without putting too much pressure on yourself. Yes, try new things and lean into curiosity. Go to places that intrigue you. Eat foods that you’ve never tried before. But ultimately, simply existing in this ever-changing world is the most worthy exploration: one that requires no planning!
Sarah Unger is the Co-Founder of CULTIQUE, a cultural insight and strategy venture. An award-winning cultural expert, Unger and her team of analysts are devoted to working with businesses to navigate fast-changing times, recalibrate for new audiences, and cultivate growth in an uncertain world.