Curiosity & Judgment

It was Christina Baldwin that I first heard speak that, “it is not possible to be curious and judgmental at the same time.” It wasn’t a grand announcement. It was a simple aha kind of comment, the kind of thinking out loud comment that I’ve appreciated with Christina many times. That was in the about ten years ago, I believe.

I’m not unfamiliar with being curious as an approach to life. When I allow myself to simplify it as much as I can, I hold a basic mantra — be present, be curious. This curiosity is a disposition, perhaps that comes from another set of assumptions:

  • all is not as it seems
  • there is always more unseen than there is seen, no matter how good we are at speaking it
  • there is always another way

These are three of my favorites. They lead me to the basic stance and practice of, “I wonder…?” This doesn’t mean that a snap judgment doesn’t show up every now and then. Yet, wonder, raises regular questions — I wonder what I might be missing here? I wonder how this makes sense to this person in a way that it does not make sense to me? I wonder if there is another way to think about this or to connect it differently?

Judgment has a different tone. And no, I’m not advocating a life without judgment, or it’s many cousins that include choice of way of living. The basic stance of judgment often sounds like, “How could he / she!” Or, “How dare they!” The question mark of curiosity is often replaced by the exclamation mark of judgment.

If I flip the above curiosity assumptions, uncertainty becomes trumped by certainty. All becomes exact with words being clear objective descriptions rather than symbolic words. All becomes clear with complexity either dismissed or replaced by convenience. Myopic view becomes the norm — this is the way.

I’m overstating the difference a bit. Yes. So that the difference can be seen and that the nested absurdities can be brought to light even for a moment.

I would advocate that curiosity is a key skill needed in these days. In organizations. In families. In teams. To help us move from the divisiveness of “how could you” to the inclusiveness of “I wonder.” It’s an aha waiting to happen most every moment.

 

Pattern Entrainment

Chris Corrigan is one of my best pals. He’s a kind soul. A generative designer of participative process. A welcoming colleague. And a very good thinker. One of the ways that I know him is for his ability to apply good theory to absolutely practical work, whether with a small team or as societal way of being.

Below is a snippet from one of his posts on “pattern entrainment.” It’s how we get stuck in our thoughts and misapply solutions that seemed appropriate in one system, but are so misguided in other settings.

Pattern entrainment is the idea that once our brains learn something, it is very difficult to break that knowledge.  And while we may be able to change our knowledge of facts fairly easily – such as admitting a mistake of a factual nature “you’re right, there is no 7:30 ferry after all!” – changing the way we make sense of facts is surprisingly hard.

Have a peek at the full post. It’s really good material.

In Ten Days

In ten days, my daughter is getting married. To a fine young man from a family that I’m enjoying getting to know. My heart is turned completely to them in support. To destress the stressful parts. To remember the purpose of this ceremony and ritual. To help with car rides.

This is new territory for all of us, as it should be. Included in that is the still stunning awareness that I am Father of the Bride! It’s an exciting time. It’s a tender time.

There is all the “event” stuff. Dresses, bouquets, food for guests. Who stands where, who sits with whom. Toasts to be made. Speeches to be offered. Funny stories to be recalled.

Then there is the “life passage” stuff. Oh yah, that. Moving into another stage of adult life. Marriage. A partner. Finances. A place to live and be responsible for. Learning to lean further in to a partner. To form union. To be a union in progress that transcends the event and takes different shapes in the varied phases of life.

I’ve searched for the right words to share. You know, Dad stuff. They come reasonably naturally. Perhaps in part because I’ve wanted to live life with my daughter, not as an event and party (though these are fun), but rather as a journey of learning.

It’s the life passage that I find myself drawn to. Not just the day, but the next six weeks or six months of growing into this new reality. For her. For them. For me with them. For all of us with them.

I can feel the importance of all of us witnessing this union, that we are holding them for a moment in this transition. Ah, that hits the spot. Naming the transition and the need to be held in that, not just in the event.

I could make some parallel to my work — holding people in transition. Marking it with ceremony. It’s all stuff that I do and that is really important.

However, for today, my thoughts are mostly as a Dad loving his daughter. They are about being present to the layers and the nuance of passages with someone I love.

Enough said.

Find the Start

One of the organizations that I’m working with is a faith community in their strategic planning. We’ve deliberately called it “experimenting” to create a bit of freedom and to support some principles of self-organization.

One of the groups within that is focused on Care of Creation and Climate Change. Two lovely people are leading the way, helping to convene others and to notice the places where they can start. Is it a meeting to talk further? Is it more education and awareness? Is it a project that others can join in? Is it a project that they can invite other churches to join them in?

I’ve seen many groups get paralyzed by the enormity of what is in front of them. I’ve seen many groups respond to such enormity by entering a perpetual cycle of trying to wrap their arms around it. It’s super well intended. It just doesn’t create the essential freedom to “try stuff.”

In complexity, “trying stuff” means as much, if not more than “wrapping our arms around it.” I’m not saying that big picture doesn’t matter. Of course it does. So does seeing the system and as well as we can, the interrelated parts. But finding a place to start, and gifting ourselves with the kindness to try it, even to fail, is what moves us along. It’s less perfect understanding of every detail. It’s more moving with intuition to test boundaries and work with providence.

Here’s one of the videos that I sent to the Care of Creation team yesterday. It was made for a recent event in Utah, Parliament of the World’s Religions. One of the people on the video, Susan Soleil, is a friend and colleague. I love how she talks about solar panels on church roofs, “onesie, twosie.” It’s a kind of smart start.