I just finished a conversation with someone in my office building. It started out as a friendly chat, then he divulged two pieces of gossip about other people in the building. i have to admit, the information surprised me — someone has a drinking problem; another person gambles too much. Juicy tidbits on a Tuesday morning.

Because Kathi and I are doing a teleconference on gossip next week, I was aware of my part in the exchange. I listened. I showed surprise. I tried to cut the conversation short, but not until I realized what was happening.

Yes, gossip is alluring. Two people who I see all the time suddenly became more intriguing to me. I also wanted to tell others what I’d learned. “Did you know…?” I would be the one with the inside information.

Gossip is hard to resist because it’s entertaining and can serves as a source of connection. Yet, it’s also harmful to the people we gossip about. I won’t look at “the drinker” and “the gambler” in the same light again. And I cannot be 100% sure that what I learned is true.

So, while I heard the gossip, I choose not to spread it. And I now know firsthand how hard it is to resist.

Our bodies are amazing instruments if we can learn to read them properly. They alert us of positive connections by warming up, feeling safe, or being able to relax. They also inform us of potential danger by tightening up, sending chills, or creating anxiety.

There may be certain people at work who seem like friends, but feel like frenemies. These are the individuals who say nice things to your face, smile when they see you, yet leave you with a queasy feeling inside.

It’s not the pizza you ate for lunch. That funny feeling may be your body telling you to proceed cautiously with this person. Your body’s negative reaction could be signalling potential danger.

So, learn to listen to your body. Don’t assume the worst about a colleague. But if your system says, “caution,” then allow this individual to earn your trust rather than just handing it over.

I love this quote by Geoffrey Abert: “Prosperity depends more on wanting what you have than having what you want.” I think it’s true.

As we prepare to give a teleconference on jealousy and envy it strikes me that both of those feelings emerge from a feeling of lack — either I think someone has what I want, or I’m afraid of losing what I think belongs to me. Nether of those are prosperous thoughts.

Maybe the next time I’m envious or jealous of someone else, I can take stock of what I have and appreciate it more. Maybe gratitude is a good antidote to envy.

Your thoughts?