Questions for Connection

What excellent question have you asked or been asked lately? How did it affect your relationship with the person asked/asking?

Ever since I started working with my life coach in 2005, I have practiced asking more and better questions in any encounter, in all life domains. The returns on this investment of presence and curiosity–idea generation, heightened conversation, and deepening connection, among others–far outweigh the costs of occasional awkward pauses and uncomfortable deflection.

I wonder, however, if I give enough time or energy to answering the interesting quesitons I ask?

Why, for instance, do I behave so differently with people in and out of my family? I feel like the same person in both contexts, and everybody knows the same me; yet I know I show up not the same at home as outside. Fascinating.

Today was Day 190 of my morning pages practice. Looking back, much of the journaling consists of lists, plans, recollections, and reflections. The same questions arise recurrently, mostly centered around behavior and relationships, and I attempt to answer overtly about half the time. Also fascinating! I feel comfortable with this state of things, as the simple act of writing them down and letting them sit on and below my consciousness day to day allows me to consider them slowly. Persistent questions point me to my core values, purpose, and goals. I feel no rush to formally answer these existential, identity-related, philosophical inquiries. I tell the story that simply marking their re/o-ccurrence pins them to some level of awareness where I can return regularly, like periodically adding brushstrokes to paintings that live in various rooms of my mind, heart, and life, when I happen to walk by. These rooms are bright and airy, each equipped with a sturdy easel, thick canvas, rich color palette, and full set of implements to create and revise, ad lib. I feel calm and focused, reassured that whatever is happening on any given day, I have time and energy set aside to process and digest, coming to clarity organically and as needed, all in good time. My morning pages facilitate insights and understanding regularly, and I see this practice sticking for the foreseeable future.

What I really relish, however, is engaging in questions, exploration, and discussion with other people! I wonder if this is how I make friends, actually? It does not matter if I just met you or I’ve known you my whole life; if you’re willing to dive with me like humanities nerds in a submersible to plumb the depths of open and honest questions and wild ideas of possibility–about anything from language to muscle physiology, human nature to politics, phylogeny to music–I might soon profess my undying love for you and chase you for more of that energizing connection. It is most often with friends, in those small, relaxed, meandering, sometimes calorie-laden gatherings, where nascent and novel answers to delightful questions so beautifully emerge and bloom. I carry my journal everywhere, to capture these pearls when they drop, as though gifts from the gods of sentience and relationship.

People crave deeper connection desperately now, in our increasingly chaotic, impersonal, and globalized world. I see references to the 2015 New York Times article “36 Questions That Lead to Love” regularly (that’s probably the algorithm, right?). If you cannot access it, see the original research article by Arthur Aron et al, “The Experimental Generation of Interpersonal Closeness: A Procedure and Some Preliminary Findings” with the questions listed at the end. Organized into three sets of increasing intimacy, the exercise invites us to ask our conversation partners questions such as, “What would constitute a perfect day for you?” “What is your most treasured memory?” and, “Complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone with whom I could share …'” From NYT: “The idea is that mutual vulnerability fosters closeness. To quote the study’s authors, ‘One key pattern associated with the development of a close relationship among peers is sustained, escalating, reciprocal, personal self-disclosure.’ Allowing oneself to be vulnerable with another person can be exceedingly difficult, so this exercise forces the issue.” I have the article bookmarked on my phone, and have yet to invite anyone to answer with me–maybe I’ll set an intention to do so on my upcoming friend dates? Part of me thinks I’m doing fine connecting on my own, and you never know, this could be truly next level.

Renowned psychologist Esther Perel created a similar game in 2021, Where Should We Begin, now in its 2nd edition. This query is how she historically initiates therapy sessions with clients. Questions in the game include, “I can’t believe I got away with…” “My latest crush is…” and, “My favorite love story to tell…” The box includes questions that range from lighthearted to serious, to sexual and beyond, which positively tickles me–because it’s all just life. In this age of polarization and easy mutual disdain and disconnection, games like this can help us all recognize our shared humanity.

I have purchased yet a different box of questions for connection, How Deep Will You Go? Its creators describe it as “a game of deep conversation without worrying what to ask, to feel closer in a way you never felt before.” Three levels of questions are labeled Ice Breakers (“What motivates you in life?”), Confessions (“Why have you kept going?”), and Getting Deep (“What is something you don’t tell most people?”). Reading the cards, I imagine with whom I’d want to delve. It depends on the question(s), of course, and also context and mood. I can picture a small friend group setting for the playful ones, and core belief/value ones as actual ice breakers for purposeful group work, such as a Braver Angels workshop. For the more intimate questions, though, I picture a one on one meeting, with plenty of preface and mutual agreement to actively engage in deepening personal connection.

Of course, interpersonal closeness is an iterative process: Other than the most superficial queries, the willingness to ‘go deeper’ requires some level of established trust and safety. That can take a while, depending on a multitude of factors. But once that foundational rapport is achieved, subsequent connection facilitated by these questions, one by one, may unfurl like the slow and steady inflation of a hot air balloon from the ground, lifting us gently together to affinity and affection we could never achieve where we started.

Connection decks like Where Should We Begin and How Deep Will You Go? make me so optimistic. I have loved and tried to ask questions like this for years, and now I feel validated. What if we all opened up to one another just a little bit more, just a little more often? What if we held one another’s hopes, joys, struggles, regrets, dreams, and confidences with a little more respect and reverence? What if we approached one another, friends and strangers alike, with the assumption of caring and mutual well wishes, looking to hold one another up, rather than with suspicion and wariness? And what if we rewarded such unearned generosity of spirit with reciprocal kindness?

The practice of mindfully asking deeper, more personal, loving, and intimate questions could go a long way to bridging our seemingly insurmountable differences; we all need this right now. It’s not appropriate in every encounter, of course. We must attune to context and opportunity, and act (ask) with confidence and humility. And that’s also the point, isn’t it?

The more present we are to one another’s vibrations, our moods and energies, the more likely we are to connect in earnest, regardless of what questions we choose to ask or not.

Understanding, validation, belonging, closeness, intimacy–we humans thrive when we feel these often and deeply. I still have hope that we can do it better.


One Perfect Day

“What would constitute a ‘perfect’ day for you?”

Some of you may recognize this as one of “36 Questions That Lead to Love,” a popular and oft-cited article by Daniel Jones in the New York Times in 2015, based on Arthur Aron’s study published in 1997. I could never generate a plausible answer, thinking superficially. And every time I read the article, I think of Nigel Marsh’s description of his ideal day–see 4:50 of his 2011 TED Talk. Basically he spends quality time with family, works about 6 hours, hangs out with friends, exercises, and has sex four times.

Coming across the question again in You’re Not Listening by Kate Murphy yesterday, I realized how close to perfect my day off was this week. Here’s how it went, with brackets inserted that would have made it truly ideal:

Wake up after 7 hours of sleep, in a fantastic mood, giddily looking forward to the day.
Move through morning routine easily, no rush or urgency.
Talk to Mei on the way to school, discussing her musings on anything that comes to mind.
Eat a light and tasty breakfast, sweet and salty, carb and protein, and coffee–oh yes, pour over coffee, nice and slow.
Consume a book and/or articles: on audio, digital, and/or print, romance and/or other, in the kitchen and car.

Ethos class! Challenged, educated, strengthened, and energized through coaching and community. I am now quoted on their social media:

Lunch with Dear Friend #1, communing over gorgeous salad, an Arnold Palmer, and shared ideals of leadership, friendship, and inner work.
[Find squishy armchair in a bookstore coffee shop, where I journal my reflections from lunch, reveling in the time and space to meet my friend and feed my soul.]

Browse bookstore, purchase artistic yet understated journal for Dear Friend #2, because everybody deserves pretty paper to write on.
Run into Dear Friend #3 on the way to meet DF2, reconnecting after many months and checking in–yay!
Walk and talk with DF2 [on wooded trails of Summit County–or] near Lake Michigan, stopping to photograph beauty that catches our eyes.
We discuss culture and relational leadership, exchange perspectives, and brainstorm ways to help systems and their people flourish.

[Find a shady bench, near spring blooms and urban wildlife, to sit and journal again, recording ideas, plans, aspirations, BHAGs.]

Pick up Mei from school, she’s energized more than stressed.
Pull fresh ingredients from fridge, audiobook or Agape music in the ears while chopping and stir frying.
Have a light and easy dinner, somebody else cleans up.
Mill around enjoying the house and its memories [it’s clean and neat, all plants watered and thriving].
Complete a relaxed night time routine, including pleasant smelling skin treatments.
More writing [and reading] in bed, all leftover words effused [and/or absorbed] for the day.
Lights out, burrowed in the covers, some intimate connection, sated in all 5 reciprocal domains of health.
Still high the next day and beyond, absolutely buoyed.

So what makes this day so perfect? What makes me so unreasonably and residually happy from it?
The ingredients:
Time
Autonomy
Good sleep
Movement
Communion with people I care about and who care about me
Good food
Alternating rhythm between activity and rest; among input, processing, and output
Nature, especially sunlight
Social, emotional, and intellectual connection, both intra- and inter-.

Would I want to live this day every day? I think not, even if it were possible… Although I could easily imagine repeating it a few times over a languid vacation.

When I cannot/will not get a whole day like this at a time, how can I incorporate something perfect into each day? This question excites me with potential. It wouldn’t take much of any/each of the ingredients above, in any combination, to make any day a little more ideal. Some advance planning, mindfulness, and real time gratitude could go a long, long way. By this time next year, regardless of what’s happening around me that I cannot control, my life in general—all days—could be a lot closer to perfect, even more excellent, than they already are.