Recently, Jo, one of my neighbours stopped me in the parking lot. “Do you hear the hammering every evening around 6 p.m. from Rick’s apartment?” (Rick is my downstairs neighbour and her upstairs neighbour.) When I told her I didn’t hear any regular hammering, she went on: “Every. Single. Evening! It’s so loud! It’s been going on for months.” When I suggested that she knock on his door and ask him about the noise, she looked at me in horror and surprise. “But I don’t talk to him!”
It’s so typical, isn’t it, to make all sorts of guesses about what is going on rather than straight up ask? And if we aren’t making guesses, we’re often making assumptions. And you know what they say about assuming.
I am fascinated by how we communicate and how misunderstandings happen. Our culture is proactive about so many things: many go to the dentist regularly; we get our vehicles serviced; we go for preventative check-ups at the doctor; we save for a rainy day; we exercise to keep our bodies strong; we learn how to fix what we have broken. Our culture values learning and skill mastery but seems to think that because we have voices and talk, we are naturals at relationships and communication. In case it needs to be stated explicitly: we are not naturals at relationships and communication. Good communication skills are learned and constantly practiced.
In her column this month, Bishop Anna invites the diocese to reflect on what accumulated grievances might be holding us back from deeper trust in one another and from the bright future God is calling us towards. When Bishop Anna was describing to me the concept of moving forward at the speed of trust, I immediately blurted out that without curiosity, there can be no trust.
As a communication skill, curiosity has several facets. I am curious about what another is saying and learn the skill of making sure I’ve understood the speaker accurately. I am curious about what motivates someone to say and do something and learn how to ask about their motivation in a way that opens rather than closes a conversation. When I have a reaction to what someone is saying or doing, I turn my curiosity inwards and learn what my reaction is teaching me about myself and the situation. I have learned to use curiosity as a tool for connecting with myself and the people around me.
Effectively using curiosity is a skill each of us can learn. In the same way Bishop Anna is inviting the diocese to do their best to let go of accumulated grievances this year, I am inviting all of us to commit to curiosity in 2026. I’ll be writing about the various facets of curiosity and how we can use this tool (if we choose!) to build healthy patterns of communication and community.
Let’s go back to my neighbour and imagine how a curious conversation might have played out:
Taking a deep breath to calm herself so she can be genuinely curious and not come off as bossy or anxious, Jo knocks on Rick’s door. After exchanging greetings, Jo gets straight to the point: “Each morning before work and each evening around dinner time, I hear something that sounds like hammering in your unit and I’m curious what I’m hearing, particularly because it occurs so regularly. What is it that I’m hearing?”
Slightly taken aback, Rick pauses to think. His first instinct is to get defensive and dismiss Jo as an interfering neighbour but Jo is standing quietly and calmly, waiting for his answer. Her demeanour telegraphs that she genuinely wants to know the source of the noise, so he relaxes.
Rick thinks for a moment and then says, “I think it’s probably me banging the salt shaker. It’s my grandma’s old one and the salt is always stuck. I give it a couple of bangs to get the salt out. I didn’t realize I was doing that each time.”
They both laugh and then say goodbye, with Rick internally reminding himself not to bang and Jo sheepishly realizing the banging had nothing to do with her.
So often we make assumptions (my neighbour is thoughtless and loud) that lead to accumulated grievances (it’s been going on for ever, he is inconsiderate of my needs). Curiosity can interrupt this cycle by helping us check our assumptions. In the year ahead, I encourage you to practice getting curious in your interactions, especially your uncomfortable ones. Curiosity is a great disruptor, and it is by being more curious that we grow in openness and trust with one another.
I urge us all to do the routine maintenance work of learning and practicing these skills long before tricky situations appear. If your congregation or group is interested in this work, I’d love to hear from you to set up some time together to learn and practice these skills. You can reach me at [email protected]
