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Stop defending, start discovering

Imagine you're on a walk with someone and having a deep conversation. 


They’re mid-sentence when they stop walking. Their face changes.


"Huh," they say. "I never thought about it that way."


These are the moments we live for. When someone's eyes shift from looking at you to looking through you... or more accurately, looking inward. When the gears start turning. When something clicks.


People walking on The Board Walks in San Francisco

It happens on the walks more than anywhere else. People having perfectly normal conversations about books or relationships or work, and then, in a flash of insight, they see themselves differently.


Sometimes it's subtle. A quiet "oh" under their breath. A thoughtful pause. A slight nod as they put pieces together they didn't know belonged to the same puzzle.


Other times it's dramatic. Someone stops walking entirely. Their jaw drops.


They turn to the person next to them and say something like "Wait, say that again" or "Holy nubs, you're right!" or "I've never heard anyone put it that way before."


We think we know ourselves. We've figured out our patterns, our strengths, our blind spots. And then we meet a stranger on a walk who asks a simple question or shares their own story, and suddenly we're seeing parts of ourselves we couldn't see alone.


Not because they're telling us who we are. But because they're reflecting us back to ourselves in a way that finally makes sense.


One walker in Austin shared a story with us that perfectly captures this.


He goes to two book clubs. One for fantasy. One for romance.


The fantasy book club is a bunch of guys who will fight to the death to prove their point. Burning desire to be right about everything, down to which character is best for extremely detailed reasons.


"I rarely have a good conversation there," he told us. "We hit a wall when we disagree. Most of the guys aren't willing to jump over the fence and consider other perspectives. I end up being ranted to for 30 minutes until I give up or walk away."


He paused. "It's really annoying."


The romance book club? That's his favorite now. Which is wild, because he never would've gone on his own. He was dragged there by his ex, initially reluctant.


But something about that space is different.


It's full of people who are curious about WHERE your perspective came from. Not just what you think, but why you think it.


That curiosity creates space to explore why you love a character: the ways they reflect your own experiences, your own struggles, your own story.


"There's no fighting or arguing," he said. "Just vibing, listening to everyone share, trying to find yourself in other people's stories."


His eyes lit up when he said this next part.


"I end up leaving with a new understanding of myself."


Not a new understanding of the book. Not a stronger argument for his opinion. A new understanding of himself.


That's the difference.


In one space, everyone's trying to win. Trying to be right. Trying to prove that their interpretation is the correct one and everyone else needs to get on board.


In the other space, people are playing. They're exploring. They're moving through conversations like water instead of like a giant boulder with "Well actually" written on it.


Here's what he learned: It's all play. 


People who connect deeply know this. They don't take themselves so seriously. They're not on a mission to change your mind or prove you wrong.


They're just curious. About you. About why you see things the way you do. About what your perspective might teach them about themselves.


The second you make it your mission to be right, you close yourself off to magic. You stop learning. You stop growing. You stop seeing yourself clearly because you're too busy defending your position.


But when you show up curious? When you ask "Why do you think that?" instead of "Here's why you're wrong"? When you listen to find yourself in other people's stories instead of to build your counterargument?


That's when it happens. That's when you see yourself clearly through someone else's eyes. That's when you walk away different.


This isn't just about book clubs. This is about every conversation we have. Every walk we take. Every person we meet.


Are we showing up to win? Or are we showing up to discover?


What's beautiful is that curiosity is contagious. When you show up to discover, you help someone else discover themselves too.


For instance, a math professor who regularly attends the Austin walks mentioned he was terrible at planning. It was stalling the math app he was making for kids.


Our founder Elle asked him, "But you've been a professor for over 20 years... do you plan your lessons?"


"Oh yeah, meticulously. I put dozens of hours into them."


"So from where I'm standing, you're a master at one of the hardest forms of planning. Wouldn't you say?" Elle said.


His jaw dropped. "Oh man. I need to sit with that for a while."


In another instance, a woman was talking about her perfect day five years from now when it hit her mid-conversation.


"I need to set better boundaries with my family. Wow, I don't know why I shared all that, but it feels like I've been holding in those words for months."


This is what happens when people show up curious instead of trying to win.


We see ourselves differently.


And we discover things we couldn't see by ourselves.


People walking at The Board Walks event in Austin, Texas

 
 

© 2022-2028 The Board & The Board Walks​ 

 

Created with love by Elle Beecher

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