What if being open-minded isn't about having no opinions?
What if it's about being willing to question the stories we've mistaken for facts?
Because so much of the time we move through life as if we have things figured out.
We think we know who we are.
We think we know who other people are.
We think we know why someone did what they did.
And we think we know what will happen next.
And while knowledge and experience are important.
There's also a limitation to thinking that we know.
Because when we think we already know,
We stop looking.
And we don't see all the possibilities.
Please stop listening.
We stopped being surprised.
And we stop being available to what is actually happening in this moment.
So in this video,
I want to talk about something very simple.
But powerful.
Wondering.
By that I mean.
.
.
The ability to stay curious,
The ability to say.
Maybe I don't have this all figured out.
Because wondering is important.
Now,
One of my teachers,
John Kabat-Zinn,
Helped bring mindfulness into mainstream medicine and psychology.
And he talks about something really important that he calls a beginner's mind.
With a beginner's mind.
We meet each new moment as if we're seeing it for the first time.
With Beginner's Mind,
You're taking on the perspective of a child who is just encountering something new.
And this is not because we're pretending that we don't have experience or that we haven't seen something before.
And it's not because we're forgetting about the things that we actually do know.
But this is because we're making room for freshness.
We're making room for possibility.
We're making room for the fact that This moment is never exactly like the last one.
And we're making room for the fact that this person may not be exactly who we think they are,
Or that this problem may have more components.
Than the ones that we're considering.
So a beginner's mind asks us to loosen our grip on certainty.
And this can be surprisingly difficult.
Because their tea can help us feel safe.
There's a lot of comfort in telling ourselves.
I know how this goes,
Or I know what kind of person they are.
And there are times when we like to say to ourselves.
I know this just isn't gonna work out,
Or.
.
.
This isn't for me.
But here's the problem.
Sometimes what we call knowing is actually just an old story.
Sometimes it's fear.
Sometimes it's self-protection.
Sometimes it's an assumption or a conclusion that we reached years ago that we've never gone back to examine.
And this is where wondering becomes such a powerful practice because wondering creates that space that I'm always talking about.
The space where there's room.
Form our possibilities.
Because instead of saying,
I know I'm bad at this.
That small space can give us enough time to ask questions.
I wonder what would happen if I tried again with the right support.
Instead of saying they're always late because they don't care.
We might ask.
I wonder what else might be going on for them.
Wondering does not mean that we become passive.
It does not mean that we ignore reality.
It does not mean we excuse harmful behavior.
It simply means we pause before turning our assumptions.
Into facts.
So I recently listened to a talk by Marshall Rosenberg.
He's the founder of Nonviolent Communication,
Which is a heavy title,
But it's actually an incredible framework.
Around communication.
And what was so interesting to me about his talk is that he described going into a school and asking a group of school children a very simple question.
He just said to them.
Hey,
I wonder.
.
.
What you wonder about.
And when he asked a group of six-year-old children this question,
They responded right away.
Their creativity was alive.
Their curiosity was easy for them to access.
They have been wondering about all kinds of things.
But when he asked.
.
.
Those children's teachers the same question?
The response was very different.
In fact,
Initially,
All he got was silence.
When he explored the silence,
Some of the teachers said things like,
Well,
I was afraid that what I wondered about would sound stupid.
I was afraid that what I would say might seem abnormal.
So basically,
The adults were just expressing fear.
And this led Rosenberg to reflect on what happens to us between childhood and adulthood.
What happens to that natural capacity to wonder?
What happens to our willingness to ask questions and to share what's on our minds?
What happens to the freedom?
To not already know.
I think this is such an important question.
Because.
.
.
Many of us were educated or trained that it's important to have the right answer.
We feel pressure to sound smart,
To be impressive,
To be competent.
And we definitely want to avoid asking the wrong question.
Nobody wants to appear confused.
And of course,
There's nothing wrong with that.
I mean,
There's real value in learning and developing knowledge.
But when we become overly identified with being the one who knows,
With being an expert.
We may lose contact with curiosity.
We may get too far away from humility.
We may lose our connection with our natural creativity.
And we may compromise our connection with other people.
Because when I'm sure I already know what you mean.
.
.
I don't really have to listen to you anymore.
When I'm sure I already know who you are,
I don't really have to pay attention.
And when I'm sure I already know what's possible.
I don't really have to keep an open mind or explore all the options.
And this closed-mindedness affects our relationships.
It's not helpful when someone we love says something,
And before they've even finished speaking,
We're already written the whole story in our mind.
You know,
They're still talking and we're already having thoughts of,
Oh,
Here we go again,
Or.
She never listens,
Or he doesn't care.
Those kinds of shots.
Often show up uninvited.
And they are signs that we're making assumptions.
And maybe there is some truth in some of those thoughts.
But often,
There's an opportunity to just stay open.
There's an opportunity to slow down.
And consider.
To ask ourselves.
Hey,
I wonder what they're really trying to say.
I wonder what the need or the emotion is underneath it.
This reaction.
Or I wonder if I can listen for one more minute before I start defending myself or correcting them.
This kind of wondering can soften us.
It can interrupt reactivity.
It can help us respond instead of reacting.
And it helps us stop repeating the same old pattern.
It can really help us improve how we relate to others.
And this beginner's mind can also change the way we relate to ourselves.
Because we don't just put other people in boxes.
We put ourselves in boxes too.
You know,
We say things like.
.
.
I'm just an anxious person.
I'm bad at meditation.
I'm not creative.
Or I'm too old to change.
And again.
These statements may seem true because they can be very familiar to us.
But familiarity is not the same as truth.
And embracing a beginner's mind invites us to ask.
Is this still true?
Was it ever completely true?
What else is here?
Or what might be possible if I made space for curiosity rather than criticism?
That question alone can be healing.
Because so much suffering comes not only from what we experience,
But from the conclusions we draw about what we experience.
Or not just what we experienced,
But the story we make up about the experience.
We can feel anxious and decide.
I can't handle this.
We can make a mistake and the story becomes,
I'm a failure.
We might think.
I just can't do another thing.
Start to think we're lazy.
And if someone is disappointed.
The story might become,
I guess I've done something wrong.
And wondering helps us slow down that process of rushing into the story.
Again,
It gives us that little bit of space.
And in that space,
We might be able to find some self-compassion.
We might be able to find some wisdom.
We might be able to see new options.
And there's also something deeply humbling about a beginner's mind.
It reminds us that life is bigger than our concepts.
Reminds us that people are bigger than the labels we put on them.
It reminds us that the present moment is more complex and much richer.
Than our assumptions or our limited point of view.
A beginner's mind helps the ordinary become.
.
.
Less ordinary.
Think about someone you see every day.
It could be a partner,
Child,
A friend,
A colleague,
A neighbor.
And then think about how easy it is to assume that we know them.
But what happens if we tap into a beginner's mind?
What happens if we take a closer look?
What happens if we ask a question that we haven't asked before?
Or what happens if we listen without immediately filling in the blanks?
Wondering.
Brings us back into relationship with others and with life.
It makes us more available,
More flexible,
More creative,
And more compassionate.
And it can be especially helpful in a world that often rewards certainty.
We live in a culture where people are often quick to assess,
Judge,
Diagnose,
Categorize,
And even to choose sides.
But mindfulness invites a different approach.
Not passivity,
Not indifference.
But a deeper kind of attention.
Again,
A compassionate awareness.
And a willingness to say.
Let me look more closely.
Let me listen more deeply.
Let me notice what I'm assuming.
And let me stay open.
To what I may not yet understand.
And that's is a beginner's mind.
And it's a practice.
We can't just decide to have a beginner's mind and things magically change.
We have to choose this approach,
This orientation to thinking.
And be willing to try to apply it over and over.
And when we default back to our old ways of thinking that we know things.
We simply reconnect with that beginner's mind.
And again,
We do this again and again.
Every time we notice when we're gripping tightly to a story.
Or we notice when we're feeling really certain.
Or we notice when we've stopped looking,
Listening.
Or exploring.
We can simply pause it.
What else might be true?
What's here that I'm not seeing?
Or,
What could I wonder about?
So I'd like to close today with a simple reflection.
Sometime today,
Or this week,
You might pause and ask yourself.
What do I wonder about?
And if you have children in your life,
You might ask them too.
What do you wonder about?
And then really listen.
Because children often remind us of something we once knew.
That life is mysterious.
That there are no right or wrong questions.
That we can be open to discovery at any age.
And that wonder may be one of the doorways.
Back to the presence.
As always,
Thank you for being here.
