At the beginning of the second chapter of my book, Nothing Higher, I wrote about how my daughter happened to be one of the most inquisitive people I know. Once she could talk, she was always asking questions. The level of curiosity I saw in her at such a young age used to amaze me.

Later, I discovered that we as humans are naturally a curious bunch. The level may vary from one person to the next, but curiosity seems to be instinctive for us, especially when we’re young. It is so ingrained in our psyche, that it helps us learn as babies and enables us to survive as adults.

As infants, we had to learn an incredible amount of information within a short window of time. Curiosity is one of the major tools we have found to accomplish that massive task. Just imagine what would have happened if as infants, we weren't curious. We wouldn't have learned anything. Our development would have never happened.

I still recollect what happened when Paul, my first son was a toddler. Living in a country where the electricity supply was very epileptic, power failure was a constant feature of our existence. Whenever that happened, we would light a lantern or candle to provide light.

As a toddler, my son was always attracted to the open flame of the candle. Several times, we would run to carry him away just before he touched the flame. But each time, he would crawl right back, drawn to the flame. One day, I got tired of running after him, so I told my wife that we should just leave him and let me touch the flame. I thought once he did, and experienced the consequences, he was unlikely to go back to it.

At first, she thought that was a ridiculous idea. Why would she allow her son to get burned? But eventually, she also got tired of rescuing him. When he finally touched the flame, felt the pain, and cried, he was never drawn to the flame anymore. He learned from the experience of his curiosity.

By trying something new, especially out of curiosity, we learn what works and what doesn't. We figure out what's dangerous and what's safe. But more importantly, it's because of curiosity we've seen the many advances in human history.

Attempting to answer the questions, “Why?” and “What if?” and then backing them up with actions have brought us innovations from airplanes to smartphones and everything in between.

It seems that for some of us, however, our curious side fades as we get older. We settle into a pattern and we're no longer hungry. We stop seeking and searching. We embrace the status quo.

When we do, it’s a disservice to us. Apart from all the innovative gadgets and tools we’ve come up with throughout human history, all kinds of research have also linked curiosity with many personal psychological, emotional, social, and health benefits.

You’re happier when you’re curious. It boosts your accomplishments. It helps you develop the skill of empathy. It strengthens your mental muscles as you constantly exercise them. It improves your memory. And it helps in strengthening your relationships.

So what are you waiting for?

Give your mind that much-needed workout.

Two separate events last week got me thinking about something. They happened three days apart on different continents. One was a discussion with one of my cousins. The other happened at a party over the weekend.

What I realized from these events wasn't really a surprise. It's something I've been aware of for a while. Those events simply made me see it with a fresh perspective.

I'm sure by now you're wondering what it was.

It's the realization that my compassion seems to be reserved for those who have not been mean, nasty, and malicious towards me.

It doesn't matter how close the person is to me, if they've shown a pattern of being nasty and disrespectful to me, my compassion for them tends to register at very low levels - that is if it exists at all. And this happens without my conscious awareness.

Does this make me a heartless person?

I hope not!

The interesting thing is that I think of myself as a compassionate person, at least per dictionary definition. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines compassion as a consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it.

I know that when I come across someone suffering or needing help, I always have this desire to do something about it. Sometimes, I would move mountains to make it happen no matter what it costs me.

Still, I've discovered that my desire to alleviate such suffering is usually proportional to how they've treated me in the past.

If I had no history with the person, my compassion for them is usually at very high levels. It's even higher for people that I know and who I like. However, if my history with them had been one of being denigrated and disrespected, I found that my unconscious compassion for them is usually low or non-existent.

When something that requires a compassionate response happens to such a person, my initial unconscious reaction tends to be along the lines of, "You brought this on yourself. Now you get to suffer the consequences!"

Of course, I'm usually not thinking that, but that's what my initial inaction seems to communicate. This is especially true if I have previously warned them against taking the steps that landed them in the predicament necessitating the need for a compassionate response.

That's when you want to say, "Good for you! I told you so!"

But in my heart, I know that's not a good response. Neither is it an empathetic one, so I never say those words. But I'm thinking it! And it shows in my behavior towards them because I take minimal steps (or do nothing) to help them.

As I thought of this yesterday, it occurred to me that how others have treated us in the past should not be a barometer for how we show them compassion in the present. I think our desire to be compassionate should come from our shared common humanity. It shouldn't hinge on how more or less we liked them.

As I thought of ways to combat this tendency, a series of steps that I usually teach during my emotional intelligence seminars came to mind. I call it Conscious Directional Thinking (CDT). When adapted for this specific scenario, it consists of the following few simple steps:

Take time to think about how the person has treated you and acknowledge to yourself how their behavior has hurt you. There's no need to sugarcoat it.
Next, make an excuse for them to explain their actions. For example, they probably didn't realize the extent of the damage they've caused. This is more difficult than it seems but it can be done.
Then, make a conscious decision to show them compassion even if you think they don't deserve it. It's a decision you're choosing to make based on who you are and not on what they've done.
Decide on the actual steps you would take to show them compassion.
Take action on those steps.

When you practice these steps consistently, I have no doubt you'll begin to see your compassion level go up, especially toward those who have spurned you in the past.

As I wrap up this newsletter, I'd love for you to respond to this question. Do you also find yourself unconsciously responding the way I described towards people who have been nasty and disrespectful to you?

Or am I the only weird one?