For Mental Health

A Kinder Way of Paying Attention When Your Mind Feels Heavy or Scared

Gentle curiosity for depression and anxiety—not a cure or a fix, but a softer way to move through difficult days.

This is not a replacement for therapy, medication, or professional help. Think of it more like: if you're already going through this, here's a softer, kinder way to move through your days.

If you're dealing with depression or anxiety, you've probably heard advice that doesn't help—and might even make you feel worse:

"Just think positive."
"Go for a run, you'll feel better."
"You just need to be more disciplined."
"Other people have it worse."

That stuff usually makes you feel broken, adds guilt ("why can't I just…"), and doesn't actually help when you're at a 2/10.

Curiosity is different. It doesn't say "Fix yourself." It says: "Let's gently notice what's going on, without attacking you for it."

1

Curiosity vs. Self-Judgment

When you're depressed or anxious, your mind often runs questions that feel like questions but are actually verdicts: "What's wrong with me?" "Why am I like this?" "I'll always be this way."

Curiosity uses different kinds of questions:

Self-Judgment
"What's wrong with me?"
"Why am I like this?"
"I'll always be this way."
Gentle Curiosity
"What exactly feels hardest right now?"
"Where do I feel this in my body?"
"What did I need in that moment?"

Curiosity doesn't assume you're the problem. It assumes you're a human having a hard experience—and there's something to learn about that experience.

2

Curiosity for Depression

Story: "Getting Out of Bed Was the Boss Fight"

Alex, late 20s, went through a long depressive stretch. For him, mornings felt like instant heaviness, with thoughts like "What's the point?" and "I can't do this again."

He used to respond with: "Come on, just get up. Stop being lazy." That made him feel ashamed, weaker, and even more stuck.

One day his therapist invited him to try curiosity instead of criticism.

The next morning, instead of "I'm failing at life," he asked: "What part of getting out of bed feels impossible right now?"

He realized it wasn't the entire day that felt impossible. It was picturing all of it at once—shower, work, social, emails, pretending to be okay.

So he made a tiny curiosity experiment: "What happens if I only commit to sitting up and putting my feet on the floor?" That's it. No promise to shower, work, or perform.

He discovered: Once upright, the next tiny thing was slightly easier. Not easy. Just… less impossible.

Curiosity didn't cure his depression. But it helped him move through the fog without kicking himself the whole way.

Tiny Curious Questions for Depression
"What feels 5% more doable than what I'm expecting of myself right now?"
"If today had a 'bare minimum' version, what would that look like?"
"Is there one thing I could do that my future self tonight would be quietly thankful for?"
"Did anything—even tiny—feel slightly less terrible today?"

These aren't about pretending things are good. They're about noticing crumbs of data: what drains you, what slightly soothes you, what your actual limits are today.

3

Curiosity for Anxiety

Story: "The Email She Just Couldn't Send"

Mia has anxiety. One email to her boss sat in drafts for 3 days. Every time she opened it: heart racing, stomach tight, "What if they think I'm stupid?"

She used to say: "Ugh, just send the email, what's wrong with me?" That made the anxiety worse.

Her therapist suggested getting curious about the fear, instead of trying to bulldoze it.

So she wrote: "What am I actually afraid will happen if I send this?" She listed: "They'll think I'm unprofessional." "I'll look needy." "They'll be annoyed."

Then another curious question: "If that happened… what would that really mean about me?" She realized she equated annoying someone with being unworthy. That's a pretty big leap.

Next, she asked: "What is one way I can make this email kinder and clearer?" She edited the first sentence. That's it.

Then: "Can I send this email while still feeling anxious, instead of waiting to feel calm?" She sent it with her heart pounding.

The outcome? Boss replied: short, neutral, not annoyed. Curiosity didn't erase the anxiety. But it gave her language for the fear, a smaller action, and an experiment to run.

Tiny Curious Questions for Anxiety
"What exactly is the scary story my brain is telling me right now?"
"On a 0–10 scale, how intense is this feeling in my body?"
"What would I tell a friend if they were feeling what I feel right now?"
"Is there one small action I can take while still feeling anxious that moves me in a direction I care about?"

These questions slow things down, move you from "I am the anxiety" to "I am noticing anxiety," and give you a choice—even if it's a tiny one.

4

Tiny Experiments (Instead of Giant Fixes)

Curiosity pairs really well with micro-experiments: "I'm not trying to fix my entire life today. I'm just going to test one tiny thing and see what happens."

Micro-Experiments to Try
For Depression
Energy experiment: "What happens if I drink a glass of water as soon as I wake up for 3 days?"
Connection experiment: "What happens to my mood if I send one text to someone safe every other day?"
Environment experiment: "What happens if I open the blinds and sit by a window for 10 minutes?"
For Anxiety
Breathing experiment: "What happens to my body if I do 4 slow breaths before I open this message?"
Delay experiment: "What happens if I wait 60 seconds before doing the thing my anxiety wants me to do?"
Exposure experiment: "What happens if I stay in this uncomfortable situation for 2 extra minutes?"

The goal is not "be happy now." The goal is: gather data, discover what helps a bit, build trust with yourself.

5

Finding Shades in the Gray

Story: "The 3-Color Day"

Jared felt completely stuck in depression. He didn't have words for his mood; it all just felt "bad."

His counselor gave him a simple curiosity exercise. Every evening, he'd color his day:

Green = had a few moments that were okay
Yellow = mostly meh, but tolerable
Red = brutally hard

Then they added a second question: "What was one moment (even 10 seconds) that was least awful today?"

He found: a moment petting his dog, a funny TikTok, a hot shower, lying down after finishing one small chore.

Over time, he started noticing those small things while they were happening, not just at night.

Curiosity chipped small cracks into an all-or-nothing story.

6

How to Be Curious Without Beating Yourself Up

A Couple Guardrails
1. Don't turn curiosity into another performance test.
This is not "I must journal perfectly" or "If I'm not curious every day, I'm failing." It's more like:
"When I remember, I'll try asking myself one small, kinder question."
2. Curiosity is not about overanalyzing.
If your brain starts spiraling ("Why am I like this? What caused this? What if it never changes?") → that's rumination, not helpful curiosity.
Helpful curiosity feels simpler, slower, specific, and doable. Like: "What do I need in the next 10 minutes?"

When Curiosity Says: "I Need More Help"

Sometimes the most important curious question is: "Do I need more support than I'm getting right now?"

That might look like: talking to a trusted friend or family member, reaching out to a therapist or counselor, telling a doctor what's been going on, or asking for accommodations at work or school.

And if you ever find yourself thinking about hurting yourself, or that others would be better off without you, that's not something you should try to "handle with curiosity" alone.

In those moments, the kindest, bravest move is: "Who can I tell, right now, that I'm not okay?"

You deserve more than to go through that alone.
• A crisis hotline in your country
• An emergency number
• A local mental health line
• A trusted adult or friend

Some Gentle Questions You Can Keep

You don't have to use all of these. Maybe pick 1–3 that feel doable.

"What's the kindest thing I can do for myself in the next 5 minutes?"
"Is there one thing I can take off my plate today?"
"What would 'bare minimum but still okay' look like for today?"
"Did any moment today feel even 2% lighter? What was happening?"
"What do I wish someone else understood about how I'm feeling?"

You can write them in a notes app, on a sticky note, or in a journal.

Depression and anxiety often say: "You're stuck." "This is who you are." "Nothing will ever change." Curiosity doesn't argue with those thoughts or try to shout them down. It just quietly asks:

→ "Is that 100% true?"
→ "What did today actually look like?"
→ "What small thing did I manage anyway?"
→ "What tiny experiment could I try next?"

Curiosity doesn't make everything suddenly okay. But it makes your inner world less blurry, turns "I am the problem" into "I'm a person having a hard time," and gives you tiny handles to hold onto in the dark.

And sometimes, that little bit of light is enough to take one more step.

Ready to Go Deeper?

Get the complete framework, more strategies, and the science behind curiosity in the full book.

Get Explore on Amazon Back to Home