Everyone seems to be talking about curious compassion lately. I saw it in Brene Brown’s new book, Dare to Lead, and in Michael Bungay Stanier’s book, The Coaching Habit, and even heard on the How to Be Awesome at your Job podcast while I was at the gym this week. When I heard the phrase a fourth time in class this afternoon, I knew something was definitely up.
So what is curious compassion, anyway?
It means listening to someone else’s story and withholding judgment—not waiting for your turn to speak, but just holding a space for the other person to feel whatever it is they’re feeling. The next part is even harder: approaching any response or reaction from a place of curiosity rather than one of judgment. In the case of a friend who is stressed out or upset, this might mean asking, “what would support from me look like?” This is much better than the half-assed, “Let me know if you need anything” or any unsolicited advice.
Let me give you an example. Recently, a colleague was stressed about marketing materials for an event that was due to happen in a few weeks. There were multiple layers of approvals that needed to happen before we could post our flyer, and she was really worried that we wouldn’t have it out in time to get a good turnout for the event. When she voiced this concern, my attempt to reassure her came out as, “Don’t worry – we have plenty of time. It’ll be fine.” Then I caught myself. I apologized, recognizing that my response was pretty invalidating. I was, in effect, telling her that she didn’t have the right to feel as she did. And when is the last time the phrase “don’t worry” worked for anyone? Exactly. My next attempt was not much better: I said, “I know how you feel; I get anxious too.” But I don’t know exactly how she feels. Damnit; this is hard!
This reminds me—I read another good book this week, a children’s picture book called The Rabbit Listened by Cori Doerrfeld. It teaches kids empathy and non-judgment. Taylor, a little boy dressed in striped pajamas, is building an elaborate structure with his blocks and it tumbles down. He is inconsolable. A parade of zoo animals pays their respects, offering suggestions or advice like “Get mad!” Or “Go for a walk!” Not to be a spoiler, but you know the Rabbit is going to have a different approach. He just sits silently with Taylor in his distress, and the boy feels safe to explore his feelings and share his frustrations. By the end, he begins to play with his blocks again.
Curious compassion would be just listening without the urge to problem solve or jump in with my opinion. It is holding space for the other person to express themselves fully without fear of being bulldozed with my damn opinions. We have to get out of the framework of quick-fix solutions. It’s much easier easier to make our own discomfort go away than to sit with a friend who is experiencing it.
So let’s all channel our inner rabbits…
I learned today that my greatest strength is that I keep going like the Energizer Bunny, and that my greatest weakness is that I overthink things. I learned these things by asking a few questions to the right people.
this gruntled worker 