There is No Answer Unless There's A Question

sky question.jpg

True, that.  There is no answer unless there is a question.  

Most of the time, however, all we want is answers.  This is, of course, understandable. Life is so full of demands, challenges, pressing matters.  Mostly we don’t have time for questions. Questions are, well, questionable. Time consuming. They open us up, suspend us, slow us down.  We don’t have time for that.

     Even the simplest question, how are you, can be grounds for fear and disassembling on some occasions.  If you are me, on most, really. “How are you?” provokes me no matter what. How am I? I am so many ways, so much of the time.  How will I answer? Questioning leads me directly to the scary, unknown, open space of anything is possible. When I question, I am at risk, afloat, vulnerable.    

     Yet, a question also immediately puts me in contact with myself.  Instantly I can, if I wish, have a relationship with myself and my circumstances.  Instantly with myself, with my neighbor, with the dog, with a tree. Asking creates an opening.  And everyone, I mean everyone, is looking for an opening. Everyone. Everyone has something to share, something that comes uniquely to them in a given moment.   When we ask, someone else can show up, dive in or walk away. This is also true. Sometimes a question acts like the wind, blowing things away, sweeping them away so fast, we can’t keep up.  We are left in the dust. Yet, that moment of contact is precious, real, alive.

    When I wake up each morning, I ask myself, what is alive today, what is moving in me today? I often scan my body for calls that might have developed during the night, where is there some tension that wasn’t there before, where is there a feeling I might not have noticed until now.  And when I retire at night, I ask, what is still alive in me, that may need further tending, that is unfinished, open, still afloat? It is harder at night to slow down, take the time to review the feelings, the experiences, the day. But even if I can’t answer, I still ask. Asking isn’t about the answer for me. Asking is about finding out what is alive right now, what is in play, in movement.

         All of life is this dynamic, this relationship, with ourselves and our world, with our bodies and our minds.  How can we mine this relationship? I say ask questions. Be curious. When we question, we are in relationship, not in control.  Life in its raw reality is something we cannot control, but we can enjoy. How can we enjoy our relationship with life?

Which of Superman's Powers Would You Pick For Your Own?

     When I was young, I longed
      to leap tall buildings, or crash
      through a wall, or bend steel bars,
      or fly in a flash to Jupiter,

     but now, I want the prudence
     of the Man of Steel
      who knows
      the power of kryptonite.

      Because if I were Superman
      safe in a Fortress of Solitude,
     I'd be my own greatest enemy:
     I'd fly around the world

     to be near and hold
     what weakens the heart and makes me human.

                       Richard Jones, 48 Questions

I wonder, what is alive in you right now? Do you have questions?  Comments are on and I’d love to hear your questions even if there are no answers…