What's your next question?
The life-changing power of sitting with a question
I used to think life was about finding the answers to my unanswered questions. If I slowly acquired all the answers, then I’d find peace, acceptance, and joy in the midst of life.
I’m so glad to find out I was wrong.
It’s been the absolute opposite that’s revealed the peace, acceptance, and joy I thought might be possible.
Learning to sit with a question is a profound practice.
Answers have a way of ending the conversation.
Ending the adventure. Bringing the wondering to a close.
Answers make us think we’ve arrived.
A question nudges a locked door open.
A question peeks around a scary corner.
A question dares to look at a blank canvas.
A question audaciously imagines another truth.
A question loosens all that’s stuck.
I get it.
Sitting with uncertainty or a sense of something left unfinished is awkward and uncomfortable. 100%. But what if, in our hustle to off load that terrible feeling, we rush to a convenient answer that’s not actually the thing?
If our primary goal is to feel okay again, we miss the magic.
If we’re only focused on the relief of rightness, wonder doesn’t get to do her job.
If all we care about is our solid unchanging framework, we lose a sense of adventure.
Just last week I sat with this question: What is most true?
That question gets me every time. It has a way of clearing away layers of pretense and assumption. That question gently but firmly ushers my excuses away. “Truly, Jenny. What is most true in this situation right now?” This question helps me breathe again.
Three questions
I give you three questions today. You’re invited to choose a question and sit with it, for even a moment. Let it rumble around unguarded. Give it freedom and see what you notice.
What story am I telling myself about this?
What do I not yet see?
Where does it hurt?
Questions are like pulling threads. We don’t grab the whole mess of yarn and wrestle it to the ground. We pull one string and gently unravel the tangles.
We wonder in places we thought were all figured out.
We talk with someone we trust and look at it from a different angle.
We follow the energy and see where it takes us.
We slow our pace and find new crevices we never thought to glance.
Sitting with a question has a way of softening everything around us. That one relationship that feels stuck. That interaction with a friend that hurt. That dream that feels like it’s dying. That new thing that feels too scary to step into. That deeply held fear that feels consuming.
Questions are the way in.
The question prepares us to see something new. Something we can rarely see when we’re living in the land of comfortable answers.
What’s your next question?
Still Here: A Poetry Memoir of Grief & Love
Almost a year ago, I published a book about grief. Over on Facebook, I’m sharing a poem each day from the book as we lead up to its first birthday this Sunday.
