Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things

When the seeker of truth and beauty, Henry Miller, declared, “Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music—the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself,” he spoke as one who had looked deeply into the heart of existence and found it overflowing. His words are a reminder that the greatest wealth is not hidden in vaults or palaces, but lies in the everyday tapestry of human life, waiting to be noticed, cherished, and celebrated. To open one’s eyes to this richness is to awaken from sleep; to close them is to walk blind through paradise.

The ancients, too, taught this wisdom. The Stoics urged men to marvel at the cosmos, to look at the stars and see not cold fire but a vast and ordered harmony. The poets of Greece found inspiration in shepherds, in rivers, in the simplest of things. To them, the world was alive, pulsing with meaning, if only one would pause to see. Miller, in his time, gave the same counsel: do not waste life gazing only at yourself, but turn outward to the abundance that is already given.

History provides us with shining examples. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, whose boundless curiosity touched every aspect of life. He saw treasure in the wings of birds, in the flow of water, in the smile of a woman. He developed such an interest in life that nothing was too small to study, nothing too simple to inspire wonder. It was this openness that made him not only a painter, but also a scientist, an engineer, and a philosopher. His genius was not in looking inward alone, but in forgetting himself enough to look outward with awe.

The meaning of Miller’s words is also a warning against the prison of ego. To think constantly of oneself—of one’s anxieties, one’s desires, one’s grievances—is to shrink the world to a single, narrow cell. But to forget yourself is to be set free, to dissolve into the richness around you, to find joy in the lives of others, in the notes of a song, in the pages of a book, in the fleeting beauty of a sunset. Self-obsession isolates, but curiosity connects. And in that connection, life becomes infinitely larger.

Even in times of suffering, this wisdom holds. Think of Anne Frank, hidden away in her secret annex during the terror of war. She could have been consumed by fear, but instead she filled her diary with reflections on the beauty of nature, the depth of human spirit, and her belief in goodness. She chose to develop an interest in life even as death surrounded her. Her testimony reminds us that the richness Miller spoke of is always present, even in the darkest hour, for those willing to look.

The lesson for us is clear: life is too vast to waste on narrowness. Cultivate curiosity. Notice the people you pass each day, for within each is a story. Read widely, listen deeply, and seek music, art, and conversation as treasures more valuable than gold. Practice gratitude for the small wonders: the laughter of a child, the taste of bread, the warmth of sunlight. By developing an interest in life, you not only enrich your days—you also step outside the prison of self and join in the larger rhythm of the world.

Practical wisdom follows. Each day, choose one thing outside yourself to notice with care: a stranger’s kindness, a passage in a book, the song of a bird. When you feel overwhelmed by your own worries, shift your gaze outward. Give yourself to others through attention, listening, and kindness. These simple acts, repeated daily, will transform your existence from narrow self-concern to expansive wonder.

Therefore, let us hold Miller’s words as a guiding star: “Develop an interest in life… forget yourself.” For in forgetting ourselves, we discover everything. In losing our obsession with our own small world, we gain the richness of the greater one. And in this outward gaze lies not only joy, but wisdom—the wisdom to live fully, to love deeply, and to walk through life with open eyes and an open heart.