Be Curious, Not Judgmental
By Dave Wenzel, For The Sandy Standard
Some of the most important work I’ve done in my life hasn’t been in a counseling office. It’s been inside my own head - learning, slowly and sometimes reluctantly, how to be less certain and more curious.
I didn’t start there.
I was raised in a world that made a lot of sense. There was a right way to see things: politically, morally, spiritually - and a wrong way. The boundaries were clear, and clarity has its comforts. It gives you a sense of belonging, of being anchored in something solid. It also, quietly and unintentionally, shapes how you see people who don’t share those same views.
Not with malice. Not with conscious intent. But with a kind of inherited certainty that leaves little room for curiosity. In that environment, judgment can feel like discernment. Drawing lines can feel like integrity. And over time, those habits settle in - not just as beliefs, but as reflexes.
I don’t fault where I came from. In many ways, it gave me a strong foundation - values around commitment, responsibility, and meaning that I still carry. But alongside those gifts, there was something else I didn’t recognize until much later: a tendency to move quickly toward conclusions about people, especially when they saw the world differently than I did.
It wasn’t until adulthood - through relationships, losses, and the privilege of sitting across from tens of hundreds of people in my work, that those reflexes began to soften.
Because when you really listen to someone’s story, judgment becomes harder to sustain.
As Hollis and I have gotten older, we’ve become increasingly aware of just how deeply those reflexes run – to exercise judgment before curiosity. They don’t simply disappear with insight. They linger, often just beneath the surface, ready to step in and make quick sense of what we’re seeing.
I’ve learned that if I can reverse that order - if I can lead with curiosity instead of judgment - I am often surprised to find that I’m wrong. Things are not always what they seem on the surface. There is almost always more to the story.
And in those moments, something opens up.
I’ve come to appreciate the beauty and complexity of each person I’m able to be curious about. Not in an abstract way, but in a very real, human way - where people are no longer categories or positions, but stories, shaped by experiences I may never fully understand.
Curiosity doesn’t mean abandoning your beliefs. It doesn’t require you to agree with everyone or to lose your sense of conviction. But it does ask something of you: a willingness to pause before deciding, to wonder before concluding, and to make room for the possibility that you don’t yet understand all things.
That shift - from judgment to curiosity - has been one of the most meaningful and humbling journeys of my life. And if I’m honest, it’s still a work in progress, and I’ve got a long way to go. I invite you to join me on that journey and to be open to curiosity, which can lead to beauty you might have missed otherwise.
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