Last week I went to a book signing event to see the author Malcolm Gladwell be interviewed about his new book, Revenge of the Tipping Point.  I’ve always admired Gladwell because of his interest in understanding complex and counterintuitive relationships.  He, indeed, impressed me as an extremely curious person who delights in coming up with unusual questions.  But what really impressed me was his process for finding answers.  So if curiosity can kill the cat, dear kitty, Gladwell has some good advice for you.

Gladwell was asked, given his many pursuits, how he defines himself – a journalist, writer, podcaster, philosopher?  I loved his response.  He said, “mostly, I’m a listener.”  Gladwell went on to explain his process of spending a lot of time with the people he’s writing about.  He records long sessions of asking questions and listens carefully to his subjects’ responses.  He shared how over the years he’d learned the value of investing significant time in hearing people tell their own stories in order to find deeper truths.  Careful and prolonged listening was his way of gathering information from his sources rather than making assumptions.

This resonated with me as a person who is constantly a work in progress as an artful listener.  To do it well is an active process, yet we often do it so passively.  Consequentially, we jump to conclusions and fill in gaps of information with our own ideas and interpretations.  Our relationships are built on the stories we tell ourselves about one another.  We may be curious about someone, but unless we ask and really listen to them, we project our own experience as a substitute.  This most often leads to frustration, misunderstanding, and potential conflict.

Too often we let our anxiety and fear answer our questions. Why didn’t she return my call? She must not like me. He didn’t say hello to me, he must be mad at me. She keeps her phone in her purse so I don’t see who she’s texting, she must be cheating on me. In my work with people, we frequently spend time untangling what the story is they’ve created and what facts support or refute it.  Then we look at what might have prompted the story in the first place.  It usually comes from a desire to feel in control.  If we don’t know, we feel vulnerable.  If we think we know, then we have certainty. Certainty is usually more comfortable than ambiguity. Even to the point that assuming we were rejected or slighted is more comfortable than not knowing!

Sitting with uncertainty is difficult, yet, research shows that it’s a foundation of well being.  If we can tolerate the discomfort of uncertainty, we gain by being more careful, thoughtful, and intentional in our responses.  We give ourselves time and space to gather information and process it.  While it may be uncomfortable in the short term, taking the time to ask questions of ourselves and of others and actually listen to the responses helps us in the long run.

So, little kitty, looks like it’s ok to be curious, just protect yourself by listening to what’s really going on. And, funny thing.  I looked up the origin of “curiosity killed the cat.”  Turns out, that’s not the entire proverb! It actually reads “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”  In other words, asking a question may be risky, but finding the truth is worthwhile.