What Happened to People’s Curiosity?

I’m sitting at Becky’s Diner in Portland, Maine. It’s just before six in the morning and Becky’s is the only place open at this hour. The counter’s nearly full with locals grabbing breakfast before rushing off to work, well ahead of the tourists emerging from their hotels.

A woman plunks down on the stool next to me at the counter. She’s middle-aged, has short spiky hair, and looks like she’s lived a hard life. Her name is Diane. She’s a school bus driver. She dropped off her load of teenagers at an early road race and is now “killing some time” until she needs to meet them at the finish line.

We talk. I ask questions. She tells me about her grandchildren, her years on the road, how South Portland has changed since her childhood. I listen intently while I eat my eggs. The conversation slows. I stop asking questions. She stops answering. We both stare straight ahead. Silence settles between us.

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That night, I sidle up to the bar at Fore Street, one of Portland’s casually elegant restaurants. It’s usually the perfect place to eat alone. I land the only open seat next to a young Asian woman named Jenny. Two desserts sit in front of her, styled just right for Instagram. After snapping a few photos, she digs in.

She tells me she’s a foodie who manages the bar at the Top of the East. Once a week, instead of spending money on hobbies, she treats herself to an extravagant meal. I ask her about her job, her favorite cocktails, and what dishes she recommends here. I hope we might connect - after all, I once co-owned a fine dining restaurant and had the honor of sharing Sunday meals with Julia Child. I figure we might trade foodie tales.

But she asks me nothing. Not a single question. And so, my stories stay tucked inside. I’m not offering my gems to someone who isn’t curious.

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This morning I was walking my dog, Satya, at Fresh Pond in Cambridge after spending the night with my son. By 8:30 a.m., it’s already hot. We stop at the little cove near the golf course where the dogs splash in the water. A man and I strike up a conversation about his dog, Sadie, a one-year-old rescue from Texas who won’t swim. He worries that if he tosses her in, like he did with his last dog, she’ll never trust the water again.

A woman nearby has a poodle, Clyde, who drops its own ball in the water and retrieves it, over and over. “Self-entertaining,” she jokes. We talk about her dog, she tells me about the joy of their routine and comments on the impending heat of the day.

Again, I am genuinely curious about these dogs and their people. Again, the owners answer my questions. But then, when my questions run out, the conversation ends. Silence. Despite me knowing about them, no one even asks my dog’s name.

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I feel like it didn’t used to be like this.

I’ve always been curious about people. I want to know what makes them laugh, what lights them up, what weighs heavily on their hearts. For a long time, that kind of curiosity felt mutual. You’d strike up a conversation with a stranger and before you knew it, you were sharing something real. Mutual curiosity made the world feel kind and connected.

But lately, it’s different. I keep asking questions. I keep showing up with wonder. And more and more often, I’m met with… nothing. No questions in return. No “tell me about you.”

What’s happened to people’s curiosity?

Is it exhaustion? Post-pandemic fear of others? Is everyone too distracted? Too guarded? Have we gotten so used to curating our lives online that we’ve forgotten how to wonder about the people right in front of us?

I wonder if you’ve noticed this too?

I believe we’re craving connection but forgetting how to create it. Real curiosity - about someone’s heart, their story, their inner world - is how we build bridges. It’s how we say: I see you. I care. Tell me more.

That’s the kind of community I want to build.

This fall I’ll be gathering groups of women for Embodiment Yoga in my Home Temple. I want to attract women who are curious about each other. Women who want to connect in real time, in real life, with real hearts.

If this speaks to you, I’d love to hear from you.

To those who have already filled out my Doodle Poll, thank you! If you’re interested in classes at my Home Temple but missed the link, here it is again. Please take a moment to let me know what days and times work best for you. These circles will begin in August. Your voice matters.

Let’s rebuild the web. One curious question, one gathering, one shared moment at a time.

I'm Curious! What Class Times work for YOU? ⬅️ click here.

With love and curiosity,

♥️ Jilli

AND - I will be teaching THIS SATURDAY, July 5, at 9:30 at Choice Fitness. The floors will be done and the gym will be open. Sorry about mis-speaking last week.