The Art of Grit

There’s something undeniably exhilarating about venturing into the unknown. The moment we realize that what lies ahead might be unfamiliar, even uncomfortable, is also the moment we begin to unlock the greatest potential for discovery. I’ve been thinking about Richard Feynman a lot lately—his brilliance, his playfulness with ideas, and his refusal to let fear of the unknown stop him from asking the bold questions. He once said, “If we want to solve a problem that we have never solved before, we must leave the door to the unknown ajar,” and that simple idea has been shaping my thoughts about growth, creativity, and persistence in my own life.

Feynman, as one of the most celebrated physicists of the 20th century, didn’t just solve complex equations—he lived with an unrelenting curiosity, a sense of play, and a willingness to dive into uncharted waters. His work on quantum electrodynamics, for example, wasn’t just about crunching numbers; it was about exploring what others thought was impossible, embracing the mystery of nature itself. And while I don’t see myself as someone delving into the complexities of quantum mechanics anytime soon, I can’t help but ask: What would my life look like if I approached my challenges with that same level of curiosity and adventure?

Feynman reminds me that there’s bravery in not knowing all the answers. How often do we shy away from something because we’re afraid of making a mistake, of looking foolish, or of failing? It’s something I’ve wrestled with. But Feynman embraced the unknown, knowing full well that mistakes and failures weren’t dead ends, but stepping stones toward understanding. He didn’t have a roadmap for solving some of the greatest scientific problems of his time; instead, he kept the door to possibility open, unafraid of what might come through.

In my own life, I realize how often I try to shut that door, how often I seek comfort in what’s familiar. But if I want to grow—if I want to help others grow—I need to be willing to leave the door ajar, just as Feynman did. And it’s not just about leaving it open for the big, dramatic discoveries. It’s about leaving it open in everyday moments, in conversations, in relationships, and in the way I approach challenges. What might change if I didn’t rush to find the solution, but instead lingered in the uncertainty a little longer, with a spirit of curiosity rather than fear?

There’s also something profoundly human about Feynman’s adventurous spirit. He wasn’t just a physicist locked in an ivory tower; he was a teacher, a storyteller, and someone who found joy in the act of learning. I think about the times when I’ve been able to help others—whether through a conversation, advice, or simply being there—and I realize that those moments of growth often come not from having all the answers, but from being open to the possibilities that I hadn’t considered before. I want to be more like Feynman in this way: a better advocate for persistence and growth not by pretending to know everything, but by showing others that it’s okay to live with uncertainty, to explore, and to question.

What about you? How often do you leave the door to the unknown ajar in your life? I’ve come to understand that this isn’t about recklessness or diving headfirst into chaos—it’s about allowing ourselves the freedom to explore new ideas, new perspectives, and new paths without needing to control every outcome. It’s about having the courage to stay curious, even when the path is unclear.

In the end, it’s not about solving every problem perfectly or having everything figured out. If Richard Feynman’s life teaches us anything, it’s that the journey of discovery—whether scientific, personal, or professional—is far more rewarding when we embrace the unknown. I’m learning to trust that the answers will come, but only if I’m willing to leave that door open, even just a little.

So here’s to living with curiosity, to stepping into the unknown, and to becoming better advocates for growth—both for ourselves and for those around us.