Q: What is in a question?
A: Potentially Everything?
I don't know the answer to this, but maybe that's the point. I have a hunch that questions are where life begins and that if you're asking one right now, I encourage you to please keep asking.
You're courting creation itself, the space for insight to emerge.
If I've learned anything, it's that a good question can function as a door, or an escape hatch or a wardrobe to another dimension where White Witches and centaurs exist.
A question is whatever you need it to be because it’s a portal to more possibilities.
Questions open things.
Which is a useful thing to remember when our options appear to be closed.
I've heard it said that curiosity cannot co-exist with judgment.
Curiosity cannot co-exist with anger.
Curiosity cannot co-exist with certainty....
Which perhaps is our greatest challenge?
*Anything that shakes our certainty and cracks the armor of judgment and anger might be considered a challenge ... isn't that what challenges do? Make us vulnerable and uncertain?
I digress.... apologies. Questions resist linear thinking...
Questions carve out space; to connect dots between ideas or build bridges between difference. Questions contain wonder...and to wonder is to question while allowing ourselves to be surprised.
A good question lingers.
It invites follow-up questions and clarifying questions and rhetorical questions like a big Question Tea Party *clink * as information is collected. It can be a looking glass through which to see things, a proverbial scavenger hunt through life.
Questions are creative, life-giving, because questions are pregnant with pure potential.
An answer, in contrast, is a period.
An ending. A closure.
It doesn't seek, it finds.
Answers are often airtight; an environment where nothing grows.
If something has been answered, it’s been settled.
And then all discussion ends.
So why do we value answers over questions?
Experts over beginners?
Why do we feverishly seek solutions before the question has had time to take root and germinate, blossom, grow?
Is it that open space makes us nervous? That ambiguity invites discomfort?
(I sure like knowing there's solid ground under my feet. Can't imagine that I'm alone...)
Could it be that it's not the questions that we're trying to solve, but the uncertainty that questions invite?
I don't know the answer to this, but it seems like a question worth asking.
(Which frankly, makes it interesting... again: pure potential.)
And if you're asking a question, please keep asking. Leave it open, let it linger.
This might be where the rest of your life begins.
Or at the very least provide a door.