It’s a dark and stormy December evening — the kind that makes you seriously consider faking a case of the stomach flu so you can skip your Aunt Karen’s annual holiday party in favour of a bubble bath, some Ben and Jerry’s, and binging the rest of “Nobody Wants This” on Netflix. But the kids are chomping at the bit, excited about the presents they’re going to get at white elephant gift exchange even though you know it’s pretty likely that the “treasures” will inevitably find their way to your thrift store donation pile.
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Though you feel like you must go, you’re dreading the inevitable holiday tradition of controversial conversations, loaded with unsolicited political hot takes and life advice that seems to come around like clockwork.

Imagine…you’re sitting at the dinner table, nibbling on a forkful of your favourite sweet potato casserole, when your cousin Sam — armed with just enough suspect Tik Tok misinformation — leans in close to you and says, “I’ve been doing some of my own research, and did you know that…” And there it is. That feeling of dread creeping in, the one lets you know that this gathering has just entered the Bermuda Triangle of family discussions that you were hoping to avoid like Grandma’s fruitcake.

It’s my hope that we can all learn to feel less overwhelmed and instead practice curiosity and compassion in conversations with those we care about — even when they see the world differently. Consider this a set of reflections and reminders to support you through those tricky interactions with compassionate curiosity, a bit of humour, and, when necessary, the power of setting boundaries (and for the truly challenging moments, a well-timed “I’ll be right back” escape to the bathroom).

In the spirit of this approach, I’m going to do my best to equip you to transform potential holiday landmines into moments of connection. You’ll learn how to get curious and ask questions that defuse tension, actively listen without involuntarily rolling your eyes, and—most importantly—keep your peace without needing to vanish entirely.

Grab yourself an eggnog latte and a box of After Eights, and let’s dive in.

We are divided

In recent years, one thing has become increasingly clear: we are a deeply divided society. From my perspective, it sometimes feels like there were moments in the past when gathering with people of different religious, political, or health views felt easier. Maybe this was always a challenge, and our unprecedented access to information today has simply made it more visible. Whatever the case, in 2024, countless topics seem to open up vast, impassible chasms between us.

Why is this happening? Have we lost our tolerance for holding multiple perspectives? Are we more comfortable sharing opinions as absolute truths than we once were? Have social media algorithms amplified our confirmation biases, eroding our capacity for critical thinking? Or are we drowning in so much information that we’ve forgotten how to ask meaningful questions?

I believe that if we want to shift things on a macro level, we must start by examining and transforming the way we engage with each other on a micro level—and honestly, what better place to start than at Aunt Karen’s holiday party?

Many forces are likely at play in creating this often ugly division. But can we change the tide? I believe that if we want to shift things on a macro level, we must start by examining and transforming the way we engage with each other on a micro level—and honestly, what better place to start than at Aunt Karen’s holiday party?

Why conversations can be challenging

Life has more nuance than most of us tend to see
We live in a time when most things are viewed through a binary lens—seen as either entirely good or wholly bad, with little room for the shades of grey that capture the complexity of life. We make sweeping judgments, announcing our opinions as if they’re facts: “That movie was terrible,” even though it resonated with many others, and won awards. Or we dismiss a food as “nasty” without acknowledging that it might be a beloved and culturally significant dish for others. As a society, it seems we’ve lost our capacity to tolerate nuance and complexity or hold space for different perspectives. The truth is, life rarely fits neatly into black-and-white categories; it’s far more layered, and often much greyer than we choose to acknowledge.

Our deeply held beliefs exist because they have served or protected us, and they feel so very true—because they are true for us. And because it feels so powerful to me, my truth can feel like it’s a “capital T” TRUTH that everyone must respect. Yet, other people have lived different lives and hold their own truths just as tightly.

Our lived experience and the brain

Our perceptions and beliefs are shaped by our personal lived experiences. Everything that has happened to me throughout my lifetime has created the lens through which I see the world—just as your lived experience has shaped yours. For example:

• Someone who grew up in a bustling city will likely view public safety differently than someone raised in a small rural town where no one ever locked their doors in case a neighbour needed to get in and borrow sugar.
• Someone who was raised by a parent who was taken from their family to live in a residential school, will have a very different view of government and the education system than someone who grew up in a predominantly white, wealthy suburban neighbourhood.
• Someone who has experienced trauma related to abuse may view leaders accused of unethical behaviour or abuses of power differently than someone without that lived experience.

Our deeply held beliefs exist because they have served or protected us, and they feel so very true—because they are true for us. And because it feels so powerful to me, my truth can feel like it’s a “capital T” TRUTH that everyone must respect. Yet, other people have lived different lives and hold their own truths just as tightly. Not to mention the fact that in today’s world everyone has a platform, and on these platforms we have become conditioned to talk more than we listen. All of this creates so much opportunity for division. 

Consider the meaning of words like “respect.” It may seem that the definition of respect is simple and should be the same for everyone, yet the meaning of the word can vary radically depending on who hears it. Respect will mean something totally different for a woman who grew up in the 1950s, than it means for a middle schooler today. Respect will also mean something very different for a woman who grew up in a country where it is considered disrespectful to look someone in the eye while speaking to them, than it means for a middle-aged businessperson who grew up in the United States.

All of this creates barriers for communication.

The influence of biases and experiences

To the human brain, survival is the most important task. And uncertainty threatens our survival. (I wrote an article about uncertainty in the last issue of InHabit. Click here to read it.) If we had to weigh every possibility and hem and haw every time we made a tiny decision (How do I make coffee again?), it would waste so much of our energy. The brain is wired for efficiency, so it creates shortcuts and categories to save energy. This means that many decisions are quick, mindless judgments based on our previous lived experience. These categories are incredibly useful at creating efficiency, but they can also lead to quick decisions that are unconsciously influenced by our biases and perceptions. We can default to using heuristics–mental shortcuts–in complex situations that really deserve greater attention and thoughtful consideration. If we don’t sometimes stop and get curious about why we know what we know, how that knowledge and experience impacts the decisions we make, we risk staying stuck in our status quo, and we will often be wrong or only partially right. (See:The Blind Men and the Elephant allegory)

Have you ever noticed that when you are missing a piece of information that your brain instantly fills in the blanks and creates a story to make sense of the situation? The brain craves certainty above all else. We hate the ambivalence of not knowing, so we unconsciously make up stories. For example, if you are texting with a friend and they stop texting mid-conversation, it’s easy to jump to “they’re mad at me!”  The thing is, we often get it wrong. Maybe they aren’t mad at all–a million different things could’ve demanded their attention, but our brains create a definitive answer about something we actually don’t know the answer to.

Our brains are wired to survive, not to be objective.

I call this my inner Sherlock. The thing is that even though my brain may have some excellent deducing skills from hours of watching mystery shows, I only know what I know…and often I am wrong. 

Our brains are wired to survive, not to be objective.

Bias in ourselves and others

Everyone has biases. The only way to work with our biases is to realize they are there and actively unpack them. Otherwise they control us and our behaviour.

As we’ve covered, biases are mental shortcuts that help us make sense of the world around us. Our biases are formed through our experiences–everything from our culture to the media we consume. 

Most of us are quick to notice biases in others while failing to see our own. This has been researched and is called “bias blind spot”. In one particular study with 661 adults, only 1 person identified that they are more biased than the average person. Hmmm…something doesn’t add up.

There are over 188 known, researched cognitive biases. Let’s look at a few:

‍Confirmation Bias: This is our tendency to seek, interpret, and remember information in a way that confirms what we already believe, while ignoring or dismissing information that contradicts those beliefs.

Dunning-Kruger Effect: This is when people with low ability or knowledge in a certain area overestimate their competence, while those with high competence may underestimate their abilities or assume tasks are easier for others as well.

Availability Bias - Our tendency to rely on immediate examples that come to mind when evaluating a topic or decision, often leading to distorted perceptions.

Anchoring Bias - The influence of an initial piece of information on subsequent judgments, even if it’s irrelevant.

Ingroup Bias - Favouring people within our own group over those from outside groups.

Bandwagon Effect: This bias is when people adopt beliefs, ideas, or trends simply because many others are doing the same. It reflects our tendency to conform to the opinions or behaviours of a larger group, often without critically evaluating the reasons behind it.

For reference: thedecisionlab.com/biases, Cognitive Bias infographic

Where to go from here

Navigating difficult conversations must start with open-mindedness and curiosity. Understanding and exploring the concepts we’ve just unpacked is a good first step in getting curious. When we approach interactions with a willingness to genuinely learn and engage, we begin to see the complexity in each person's perspective. It’s about pausing and asking, “What might I not understand here? Is there something I’m not seeing? Is there something I can learn from this person? Is there another way to look at this? Do I really believe what I think? Why?” This simple shift can defuse tension and foster connection.

When we allow ourselves to sit with not knowing and the discomfort it brings, we open the door to empathy and deeper understanding.

Tolerating uncertainty is key. As we’ve covered, it’s natural to crave certainty—our brains are wired for it—but growth lives in the messy in-between. When we allow ourselves to sit with not knowing and the discomfort it brings, we open the door to empathy and deeper understanding.

“We hate to have our assumptions questioned because it creates uncertainty, which leads to stress. Your brain hates uncertainty. Yet the best questions are the ones that create the most uncertainty; the questions that challenge what I assume to be true already – whether that be at a corporate or a personal level.” ~Beau Lotto

‍Choosing to intentionally see and hear the person in front of us means offering our full attention and listening beyond words, without the urge to judge or defend. It isn’t about agreeing with everything said but about creating a space where everyone feels valued and understood. When we give ourselves over to truly being present, we honour the complexity and humanity in each person. This creates an environment for meaningful connection, one built on respect, empathy, and the willingness to witness each other fully. Such moments have the power to transform even the most challenging conversations.

 Compassionate curiosity invites us to approach interactions with both empathy and an open mind, creating space to understand others deeply, even when their perspectives differ from our own. Rather than focusing on trying to convince one another of our own opinions, compassionate curiosity is about asking thoughtful, nonjudgmental questions to learn why someone feels or thinks a certain way — seeking to uncover what lies beneath the surface. This approach not only defuses defensiveness but also nurtures genuine connection. It challenges us to hold both empathy and inquiry together, making room for complexity and fostering meaningful, respectful dialogue where everyone can feel seen and valued. When we combine curiosity with compassion, we soften our reactions, lean into discomfort, and create bridges of understanding that allow for authentic, transformative conversations.‍

Boundaries: Recognizing our own “no-fly-zones”

It’s important to talk about the fact that for many people, conversations about politics or social issues go beyond simply having different perspectives on abstract ideas—they can be deeply intertwined with values, morals, and even one's own very sense of identity and personal safety. What feels like an interesting political topic for one person at a holiday party may be deeply personal and intrinsic to someone else’s entire belief system and sense of self. 

When issues touch on fundamental human rights, identity, or lived experiences of injustice, it’s understandable that these are not conversations to be had over the punch table with Uncle Joe, who won’t let up because he thinks debates are fun and he enjoys seeing people squirm. It may be impossible to have a meaningful conversation with someone who outright dismisses or denies realities that seem so crystal clear to you, or with someone who is unwilling to get curious about their own biases and the perspectives of others. Because remember, no matter how articulate and versed you may be on a topic, and no matter how open and curious you are as you come to the conversation, a person will never be open to shifting their thinking unless they are willing to question their own strongly held beliefs. They have to be willing to walk into the uncertainty of not having the answer or even all the relevant information. In these times, that is a pretty darn tall order. In those cases, setting a hard boundary to not engage may be an absolutely necessary act of self-care. That might look like something as simple as rehearsing a few scripts to use when Uncle Joe starts trying to rile you up: “Uncle Joe, I get that you’re really passionate about this–I am too. But I’m feeling like I’m not being heard, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’m going to step back from this conversation.”

However, big topics don’t always have to be “no fly zones.” Respectful conversations may be possible when both people are open to listening to and acknowledging each other with compassion, empathy, curiosity, and humility. However, if that care and openness is absent and one’s values, identity, or safety is disregarded and disrespected, drawing a firm boundary to not engage at all is the kindest act of self-compassion. 

Together, these practices can turn potential conflict into meaningful exchanges. Conversations may not always lead to agreement, but they can create deeper connection, mutual respect, and opportunities for growth. In the end, showing up with curiosity and compassion makes all the difference.