Learn To Question

My best place for asking questions

My best place for asking questions

20 (aka John) tells me that his coworker, Amy, aged 22, will have answered all of life’s questions within the next three years. He assures me that she will share her answers when she has them. “We just need to hang on for another three years,” he quips, “…and it’ll all make sense!”

The admitting nurse at the surgery center feels like a threshold guardian. She said, “People who pass through here learn just how little they actually control in life. Surgery is humbling. I’m here when their illusion of control bursts. That moment is hard.” She was quiet for a moment and added, “What gets me is all these people in the world who think they have all the answers – and they think their answer has to be the answer for everybody. All these rules made up by all these people who think they have the right answer for everybody! That’s why people are killing people everywhere.”

“It sounds like more people ought to have surgery!” I tease.

“You got that right,” she said, handing me my gown, hairnet and blue booties. “Put one of these on and you realize how little control you actually have; in this place none of your answers matter and none of your rules apply!”

It should be a mantra for educators and the only argument necessary to dismantle a test-driven system: Life is always found in the direction of the question. At best, answers are relative – and the best answers, if understood, are simply doors to more questions. Learn to question.

The best art follows the same mantra. It steps into big questions, wanders into unknowns and complexities. It tests and tries, explores and experiments. It leads us to explode our answers and like a good trickster does not allow us to hold our gods too tightly. It begs us to question.

“Shall we tell Amy that there are no answers?” I ask 20.

“Nah. Why spoil the surprise.”

From the archives. This one often calls to me

From the archives. This one often calls to me

Save

See The Basic Layer

a detail of my latest painting

a detail of my latest painting

We’ve decided that we cannot use the word “vacation” to describe our most recent trip. Odyssey, perhaps, is more appropriate. A dog bite, projectile vomiting, 3 trips to the emergency room (yes – 3), crippling shin splints, witnessing the death of a dog, a freeway car breakdown, towing, an enormous bird flew directly into and broke the bumper just minutes after we got back on the road… For those of you with a voodoo doll with my name on it, rest assured that your spells are working.

This is also true: we saw the milky way, were serenaded by coyotes, watched a herd of elk cross a field at sunset, walked by a stream that magically silenced all thoughts, saw a double rainbow, spent precious time with family, experienced titanic kindness, were awed in the John Denver Sanctuary, received a well-timed dose of life-wisdom from an 83 year-old man sitting next to us at the bar. Oh, and learned the virtues and real-time value of an espresso martini.

This is also true: there was an emergency room close by when we needed it. The car broke down just as we came upon a rest area exit ramp (the day before we’d crossed 180 miles with no services). Kerri sang Sugar, Sugar with the tow truck driver, our AIR B&B hostess made it possible for us to stay an extra night when the emergency made it impossible for us to leave. Friends from home immediately offered help when they knew we were in trouble. They would have driven the 9 hours to fetch us if we’d have needed them.

photo-1Like all things, what we see depends upon where we decide to focus. Was our odyssey a disaster, a rich and varied adventure, a story of good fortune? Yes.

It was a reminder that things happen, circumstances change rapidly and we have little or no control over that. We can, however, choose how to live within the circumstances. As Kerri said this morning, “If the basic layer, the foundation, is happiness, you can build anything on top of it. Life can (and will) blow away what you build, but the basic layer remains.

Save

Save

Save