Imagine a typical conversation and a question asked. Do you imagine a pause and internal reflection? Probably not. We don't often sit with questions. Because uncertainty is uncomfortable. And answers seem certain.
I'm trying to live more with questions; to not know. This process is difficult—it goes against my long-held habits. But it also feels alive. When I sit with a question, my mind is exposed: a flood of judgment, doubt, or longing, followed by "the answer." When I make more space, in an honest yet gentle way, I settle down. I find an answer that feels genuine, and might change as I change.
Each night, I reflect on my day. I gauge whether my actions were in-line with my bigger intentions. I see where I make mistakes and how I can start again. And I often sit with questions.
Today my corners are more round. I lived a few powerful moments with death. I found no clear word, and that feels okay. I allowed for possibility. I learned bits of patience and self-kindness. I occasionally let things flow (my life is layers and layers of letting go). Tomorrow, who knows?