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From "This Again?" to "Let's See:" Aversion and Curiosity - Diana Clark

The following talk was given by Diana Clark at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on December 30, 2025. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

From "This Again?" to "Let's See:" Aversion and Curiosity

Introduction

Good evening. Warm welcome to everybody. We will sit in silence for thirty minutes, after which I will give a talk, and then there will be time for some Q&A. You'll hear from me in thirty minutes.

Good evening. Welcome. It is nice to see you all during these cold days—well, for those of us in California, it feels cold! I love this time of year. It seems like everything slows down, unless you are in retail, of course. For most, things become a little more quiet and cozy.

I would like to start this evening with an imagination exercise—though it may not require much imagination at all. Perhaps it is something you can relate to or a version of something you have experienced in your own life.

Imagine you wake up in the morning and it just feels like one of those "ugh" mornings. For whatever reason, you didn't sleep well, or you are dreading something you have to do later in the day. Nothing giant is wrong, but you are just a little cranky. I know that sometimes I wake up a little cranky for no particular reason. You go into the kitchen and see dirty dishes in the sink. Maybe you left them there, or maybe someone else did.

In the first version of this scenario, the mind quickly goes to: "Oh, gee, this again? Do I have to do everything?" That crankiness starts building a story: "Here is one more thing I have to do."

Now, imagine a second version. You wake up with that same inner growl or crankiness. You go into the kitchen and see the dirty dishes. You think, "Oh, okay. Dirty dishes." You find a cup, rinse it out, and make your coffee or tea. There are dishes in the sink, but they are just dishes in the sink. There isn't a big story attached to them, like "Why does it have to be me?" or "This always happens." It is just dishes in a sink. It’s pretty simple.

Changing the Inner Weather

A big part of our practice is learning to notice when we are "cranky"—or whatever word you prefer—and how that mood turns a simple experience into a problem surrounded by stories. Instead, even if crankiness, aversion, or ill will is present, we can shift our stance. We can move from "This again?" to "Let's see how this unfolds," with a sense of openness and ease.

I am not saying the aversion magically disappears. I am saying there is a way in which it can shift so that it no longer colors the rest of your morning or your day. Practice is about changing the "inner weather" rather than trying to change our outer experiences. Frankly, we don't get to control the universe. We control so much less than we think we do, yet we spend so much time trying to change external situations. Practice is about changing the inner ecosystem—the inner stance or posture, both literally and figuratively—so that things can unfold differently.

The first step in this process is simply being aware that an inner attitude, mood, or posture is being experienced right now. So often, we don't even notice it. We think, "This is reality. This is the truth," just because we see it that way. We don't question it. But we have all had the experience of thinking something is terrible, only to receive one more piece of information that makes us re-evaluate everything.

I have told this story before, but it had a big impact on me. Years ago, I was meeting someone for a meal, and they were late. As I waited, a story started to build: "They are always late. It's disrespectful. Don't they know I'm sitting here? Next time, I'm going to tell them we’re meeting fifteen minutes earlier just so I don't have to deal with this." Irritation was building up. Then I heard the reason they were late, and my heart just went out to them. It had absolutely nothing to do with me; they had encountered a significant hardship right as they were leaving. The experience of waiting was the same, but my inner stance changed my entire experience of it. I realized I had been adding extra irritation to what was simply the act of waiting.

The Habit of Resistance

Meditation helps the mind and body quiet down. In that slowing down, it becomes easier to see our attitude. We particularly want to look for subtle aversions—the ways we say, "No, thank you, I don't want this. It should be different."

It is amazing how often we resist what is actually happening. It can become a total habit. I once spoke with a Dharma teacher who said something that really stayed with me: "We could simplify practice to just stopping all the resistance."

I’m not saying we have to accept everything or be happy all the time—that would be ridiculous. What I am saying is that we are often subtly saying "no" to our experience and then moving through the world from that place of "no." Instead of looking at an uncomfortable situation and saying, "Let's see what's really happening here," the mind goes, "It shouldn't be like this."

Simply naming the attitude—"Oh, there is some resistance here; there is some frustration"—begins the process of change. In the moment you name it, you are no longer lost in it. There is a little bit of separation. Knowing the aversion allows something else to arise instead of our usual reactivity.

Shifting to Curiosity

Once we recognize the aversion, we can experiment with a new attitude: curiosity.

Aversion has a recognizable flavor. For me, it feels like a "scrunching up," a contraction, or an armoring. There is no openness or ease. It might show up as resentment, hostility, criticalness, or chronic complaining.

I recently spoke with someone who was complaining about everything—the DMV, political leaders, various systems. It went on and on. My heart went out to them because that is not a comfortable way to move through life. I could feel the mood of the whole conversation dropping as others joined in with their own frustrations. We aren't denying that systems can be frustrating or that things go wrong. We are just recognizing that this posture of chronic complaining is an attitude of aversion that people often don't even recognize they are holding.

I used to do a lot of complaining myself. I had no idea how much I did it until someone pointed it out to me. Naturally, my first reaction was to complain about them telling me I complained too much! [Laughter] It was very helpful to recognize that I didn't have to show up that way.

Instead of aversion, can we be curious? Kids are naturally curious; they want to understand the world. They ask, "Why, Mom? Why is it like this?" Curiosity has an openness to it. It doesn't mean you suddenly like what is happening; it means you stop fighting reality long enough to learn about it.

This shift can be very small. It might be as simple as catching yourself before you say, "Here we go again," and instead asking, "What's really happening right now? What is going on here? What matters to this other person? What am I reacting to? Is there something I don't know?"

In the body, curiosity feels like a bit more space and openness. It might not be blissful, but it is less clenched. The breath becomes more easeful. In the mind, it is a shift from judging to looking—from "I already know" to "Let's see." It requires a bit of humility to admit we might not have the full picture.

Curiosity might even bring a bit of warmth or softness to the heart. The tone of the inner voice changes. Where aversion says, "This is ridiculous," curiosity says, "Hmm, that’s interesting." Where aversion says, "They always do this," curiosity says, "I wonder what’s behind that."

The Freedom of Not Knowing

Curiosity is a type of freedom. It is freedom from the "I already know" stance. It is freedom from being trapped in a fixed story. It brings a "not-knowing mind," which we sometimes call "beginner's mind." In that moment, we are no longer compelled to defend, attack, or rehearse our usual patterns. We stop building our "case."

Aversion fixates on what it doesn't want or what it fears, and the mind spins out. Curiosity interrupts that fixation. It brings us back to the actual moment—things we can actually experience—rather than a story about the future, which nobody can truly know.

Aversion is like being locked in a small room with your irritation. Curiosity is like opening the window and letting in fresh air. It is a turning point in practice when we realize that there is almost always more freedom available to us. When we sense the absence of stress—when the mind is no longer pushing, straining, or pulling back—the mind and body naturally begin to orient in that direction. We can start meeting the moment without expectations or overlays of how things "should" be.

This doesn't mean the moment becomes absolutely pleasant, but the "problem-ness" drains out of the situation. There is a lightness and an openness, like the light before a sunrise. As this feeling of non-aversion becomes more familiar, it becomes a reference point that makes it easier to orient toward ease, no matter what is happening externally.

So, I invite you to go from "Oh no, not this again" to "Let's see what's here."

As the new year approaches, my sincere wish for you in 2026 is that it be a time of more freedom, ease, and peace. May your heart and mind be nourished in a way that touches you deeply. I know it can sound glib to say "just move from aversion to curiosity," but there is something truly beautiful available to us, even in the midst of irritation.

May you find things in your life that nourish you and enable you to meet the guaranteed difficulties of life with more freedom and ease.

Thank you.

Q&A

Questioner 1: When you were talking about aversion, I thought about Christmas Day. One of my brothers came into the room, and my old habit would have been to think, "Oh no," and feel an impulse to leave. But this time, I stayed aware of the aversion in my body and actually felt a little bit of compassion for him. I’m interested to see how this continues in our future conversations. I noticed that when I felt the aversion, it was a physical desire to get out of the room and go to the kitchen where the "fun people" were. [Laughter]

Diana Clark: That’s wonderful. Especially with family members, we have lifelong patterns. It takes time, and it starts exactly like that—just by noticing.

Questioner 2: Last week, we talked about RAIN¹ and "A" for Allowing, which sounds very much like "stopping the resistance." I ran into some difficult problems this week and tried to use curiosity by asking myself, "What does this mean?" and "Why am I doing this?" But it didn't really work for me. Is there another recommendation?

Diana Clark: Thank you for bringing that up. I wouldn't necessarily recommend those specific questions. Asking "What does this mean?" or "Why is this happening?" often isn't helpful because we don't really know the answers, or we just make up stories.

Curiosity in this context is more like: "What is this? What is happening now?" It’s not about figuring it out; it's about opening to what is being experienced. You might ask, "What's happening in my body? What is my mind doing?" Earlier, I mentioned asking what a person's favorite vegetable might be—not because you need to know, but because asking the question humanizes them and changes your relationship to them.

Curiosity is a "not-knowing" stance. It is an attitude rather than a quest for answers. This practice is more about finding the ease and freedom that is available right now. Sometimes, searching for "why" can actually be a distraction or a way of avoiding what is actually happening. Does that help?

Questioner 2: Yes, so "What is happening now?" and feeling it in the body—that is a kind of curiosity.

Diana Clark: Yes. Noticing your response, noticing other people in the room, noticing neutral experiences like your feet on the ground. It’s letting go of any idea of how things should be.

Thank you all, and I wish you a very happy and safe New Year.