There’s a truth that I’ve been spinning around lately. It means you’re tired of trying to be your “best self.” Somewhere between micro-habits, stacks of self-help books, and endless talk of optimization, health started to feel more like a performance than care. I found myself wondering, almost sheepishly. Has wellness gone too far? And the obnoxious answer I always come back to is “yes.”
I’m not going to optimize my life anymore. I want to live my life. Feeling curious, expansive, and inspired, not always refined. Instead of perfecting a routine or hacking a habit, what I crave is something more true: expansion, not efficiency. More depth than discipline. I don’t learn because I need to, but because it makes me feel reawakened.

A personal curriculum for a fulfilling life
That’s why when I came across the idea of a personal curriculum, it took my breath away. Not another system to conquer or a practice to master, but a return to the simplest impulses: following what fascinated me. I explore ideas, books, and skills because they inspire me, not because they promise to make me better.
I’ve always believed that curiosity is my greatest superpower. I don’t pretend to have it all figured out (far from it), but my instinct to follow what comes to mind has never led me in the wrong direction. It has given me flexibility and hope and kept me connected through every chapter of my life.
Learning for fun rather than striving for perfection expands us in ways that can never be achieved.
New ways to grow this season
This winter, instead of setting goals, I’m designing a syllabus that’s built around fun, curiosity, and vibrancy, not productivity. A personal curriculum is not about becoming a new person. It’s about returning to the parts of yourself that have been pushed aside under the weight of self-optimization.
If you’re feeling a similar fascination, here’s what a personal curriculum actually is and how to create one that’s more like a deep breath than a checklist.
What is Personal Curriculum?
A personal curriculum is exactly what it sounds like: your own self-directed “course” on a subject or idea that excites something within you. This is a practice rooted in curiosity rather than achievement, and a return to learning for pure, unrefined pleasure.
Perhaps this looks like a month spent immersing yourself in poetry, a month spent learning to bake, or a quiet period studying philosophy or photography. There is no performance. There are no measurements. Just the slow and steady thrill of chasing what feels nourishing right now.
In a culture obsessed with progress, a personalized curriculum allows you to return to being a curious, playful, and open-minded student of life. Instead of striving, expand. It’s not about achieving, it’s about awakening.
Why it’s the antidote to winter burnout
Winter invites a different pace. The light becomes softer, the routine blurs, and our bodies ask us to turn inward. But instead of honoring it, we often try to outdo it with a rash of planning, determination, and productivity.
Personal curriculum is coming to winter. It gives you a way to stay engaged through inspiration rather than urgency. Burnout occurs from output without replenishment. A personal curriculum is a replenishment and a reminder that growth doesn’t have to look like effort. Sometimes it looks like you’re paying attention.
How to find things you’re interested in
The first step is not planning, but awareness. Curiosity appears as a pull. It could be the book you keep reaching for, the recipe you saved three times, or the topic you research late at night.
Ask yourself:
- What am I attracted to without even trying?
- What ideas and topics keep resurfacing?
- What feels like nourishment rather than obligation?
- What can you learn to feel more alive?
Start there. Your curiosity is already directed elsewhere. Your job is just to follow it.
How to create your own personal curriculum
Once you feel that shine, give it enough structure to support it, but not so much that it feels stiff. Think clarity and rhythm, not rules.
1. Choose 1-2 themes
Depth, not breadth. Here’s hoping there’s a thread or two that makes sense this season. Examples include poetry, seasonal cuisine, philosophy, photography, art history, and nature studies.
2. Choose your learning format
After choosing a theme, the next step is to decide on a theme. how you want to learn. A meaningful personal curriculum blends input and expression, allowing you to absorb and work with ideas. Consider choosing one format from each category.
input
- Read (books, essays, Substack)
- Watch/listen (lectures, documentaries, podcasts, talks)
action
- Practice (writing, cooking, photography, sketching, language)
- Experiences (museum visits, nature walks, workshops, classes, conversations)
reflection
- Diary or voice memo
- End-of-week notes about what moved you or triggered something
The magic is in the balance: do you learn? do you? reflect. It will help you maintain your curiosity and make the learning really stick. Let ideas come in, pass through you, and change you. That’s where growth lies.
3. Set a gentle rhythm
A personal curriculum is created through rhythm. This looks like small, consistent touchpoints that help make curiosity a part of everyday life. Choose a simple anchor that you can count on, such as:
- Sunday morning reading ritual
- Take a winter walk once a week to notice the light, quiet, and changing seasons.
- One new recipe this weekend
- Monthly creative or cultural outings (museum visits, workshops, bookstore browsing, movies, author talks, etc.)
The goal is not to fill up your calendar, but to create moments that you come back to.
4. Stay flexible
As you explore, your interests will change. It’s not a failure, it’s part of the process. If a theme no longer inspires you, change direction. When a new curiosity arises, follow it. A personal curriculum is not meant to lock you in. It is intended to move with you.
5. Review weekly
Take some time at the end of each week to check in with yourself. No spreadsheets or diary routines required. Just being honest is enough.
Ask yourself:
- What triggered something in me this week?
- What felt nourishing and meaningful?
- What would you like to find out more about next week?
ideas to consider
Think of these as invitations rather than tasks, small ways to follow your curiosity in your daily life. Choose one or two that you find exciting or just interesting. Let inspiration guide you, not pressure.
creativity: Research a new poet every month, annotate one poetry collection, and free write or journal every week
food: Dive deep into one dish, learn basic winter techniques (soups, stews, breads), and share what you’ve learned by hosting a cozy dinner
philosophy and self-exploration: Choose one thinker or school of thought and read the text slowly, chapter by chapter, jotting down questions and ideas in your notebook.
Art and visual research: Choose an artist or movement, visit a museum or gallery once a month, and sketch or photograph what inspires you.
Commitment to nature and seasons: Learn about winter plants and constellations, walk the same route every week to notice changes, and make simple nature notes.
house: Study a design philosophy or era, create small seasonal vignettes, notice and enhance a single moment in everyday life (a candle at dinner, a flower in a bedside vase, a thoughtfully plated meal).
The beauty of learning for the sake of learning
Winter gives us the gift of slowness. It’s an opportunity to ease off on the accelerator and pivot inward, gently expanding rather than retreating. A personal curriculum respects that rhythm. It reminds us that growth doesn’t just happen through achievement. Flowers bloom with curiosity, play, and the act of paying attention.
Follow your interests as the season progresses. Pick up a book that piques your interest, follow a recipe that feels comforting, or take a walk just to notice the winter light hitting the trees. Learning is personal and progress at your own pace. There is no finish line, only a path forward.
Winter is here to rediscover the joy of learning.
Source: Camille Styles – camillestyles.com
