Questions?

“And when you look into her eyes, you won’t believe
The way she’s always paying for a debt she never owes
And a silent wind still blows that only she can hear and so she goes”– Wildflower (Skylark)

At the end of my lecture, I asked if there were any questions. My students looked at their desks; somewhat afraid to meet my line of sight. Why won’t you ask a question if there is something that you don’t understand? Why are they afraid to question me? I question everything; on my morning run, before I fall asleep, as I move through life. I have millions of questions and I ask them as much as I can. Why is this thing the way that it is?

I am as comfortable with my questions as I am with answers. If I receive an answer, I still question that answer. My Pop nicknamed me “Magpie” because I continually questioned him about everything I noticed. “You talk too much sometimes,” he would admonish. “Sometimes you just have to shut-up and listen for answers.” Still, I would ask questions, following my beloved Pop as he went about his world.

Sometimes as I run, I hear the wind rushing by my ears, on my face as I coordinate my breathing with my steps. Sometimes, I let my mind go in its own direction. Why am I thinking about that? I will question my thoughts and feelings. Why didn’t I just fall in love and live happily ever after? Why did I choose the most complicated path? Why can’t I just shut off my feelings and be content with the way the world comes to me?

Why do I look into the clear blue eyes of my friend, see his shy but wonderful smile and feel my heart stop? Why do I feel his enormous energy of spirit that makes my heart sing? I take a deep breath and feel that my world is at peace. Why has God given me this gift? Still only I can hear and I go and will keep going.

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