A trick I learned while trying to become an extrovert was to slip a “What’s your favorite?” into the conversation. Ask one of those questions, and you’ll easily enter the kingdom of friendship. A person’s answer to a “favorite” question is always a lead-in to discussions about differences of opinions, of
facts, of backgrounds, of hopes and dreams. And since we are programmed to be social, if we go with the program, those differences become the stuff of sympathy and compatibility.

At a recent dinner party, the guest seated next to me unhesitatingly confessed that his favorite color was blue, as do 99 percent of respondents to the “What’s your favorite color?” question. But I didn’t yawn. Remember, we’re working toward extroversion here, toward expanding our understanding of others, toward appreciating different views of the world, toward hearing what others have to say about life.

To get where you want to go as an extrovert, you need to learn that when we talk about favorite colors, we aren’t talking about favorite colors. What we are talking about is what you hear when you ask blue-lovers of the world: “What’s so special about blue?” I asked that question of my dinner party neighbor, and guess what happened next.
Out came a soliloquy about fishing at dusk in a hidden lake, about how the moment between day and night reveals a whole array of blues, about the way the color blue can bring back memories of states of tranquility and moments of magic.
Then, since we aren’t talking about favorite colors when we talk about favorite colors, this lover of blue asked why my favorite color is any shade of green. He agreed that greens are the signature color of nature, at which point the conversation turned to experiences of the outdoors and why they make such an impression on us. We moved on to a mutual lament about climate change before laying out our opposing views of the function of politics in solving problems, concluding with a laugh after dessert and coffee that you’d run out of things to talk about if talk stopped at favorite colors.

But of course, that’s never what you’re talking about. What the blabber is really all about is the search for the portal to trust. Will my dinner party neighbor look beyond our differences in choice of favorite colors to our mutual desire for a life that lets both of us flourish, while allowing each of us to argue for the kind of world we believe in? Can I rely on the lover of blue sitting next to me to want a world that will be good for both of us, not just for him? I don’t know.
That’s why I’m taking lessons in extroversion. I can only find out by asking “What’s your favorite” questions, with the understanding that whatever the answer to the question is, we won’t be talking about favorite colors for the rest of the evening.

—Susan Rosenstreich