Lessons from my Cat

We have a cat named CeCe.

If CeCe wants nothing to do with you, you know it immediately. She keeps her distance, stays alert, and makes it clear that this is not the moment.

And then there are the other times.

Usually when I am lying in bed, CeCe will quietly climb up and settle right on my chest. No warning. No request. Just a calm decision that says, I am okay with you.

That is the good stuff.

She purrs. She relaxes. She wants to be close. But it only happens on her time. If you try to rush it, grab her, or force the moment, she will disappear just as quickly.

People are not that different.

Opening Up Is About Timing, Not Willingness

In my work and in my personal experience, I see this pattern all the time.

After a meeting, a one on one, or a missed expectation, a leader will say something like:

I wish she would have said something.
I had no idea that is how they felt.
If I had known, I would have handled it differently.

The assumption is often that the other person chose not to speak up.

More often, the truth is simpler.

The moment did not feel right yet.

Not everyone is wired to say what is on their mind in real time. Some people need space to think. Some need reassurance. And when you add power dynamics into the mix, especially when you are the boss, speaking honestly becomes even harder.

Just like with CeCe, trust is not demanded. It is invited.

What Creates the Conditions for Honesty

When CeCe climbs onto my chest, it is not because I called louder or moved faster. It is because the environment felt calm, predictable, and safe.

Humans work the same way.

People are more likely to open up when they do not feel rushed, judged, or dismissed. They lean in when they sense patience, clarity, and genuine curiosity.

That does not happen accidentally. It requires intention.

What This Looks Like in Practice

It starts by slowing yourself down.

You pause on purpose. You resist the urge to jump in, explain more, or soften the moment. You create space instead of filling it.

Then you ask clearly and directly.

Not, Any thoughts?
But something like, What concerns you about this?
Or, What am I missing here?

And then comes the hardest part.

You wait.

You hold the silence longer than feels natural. Longer than feels efficient. You stay present without rescuing the moment, even though everything in you wants to move on.

Yes, it will probably feel uncomfortable.

That discomfort is often the moment when someone decides whether it is safe enough to speak. Just like CeCe, people do not open up because they are rushed. They open up when the environment feels steady and patient.

A Simple Reminder

If you are like me, it helps to have a reminder.

A reminder to slow down.
A reminder not to fill the silence.
A reminder that just because someone has not spoken yet does not mean they do not have something to say.

That is why I think of it as PAW.

Pause. Ask. Wait.

And when I forget, I think of CeCe.

You cannot force closeness. You create the conditions and wait for their timing.

That is where the good stuff lives.