A Joyous Perspective on the changing ways of our 'why'....Why? Why! Why.

This week at the Friday Night Thought Tale Hour with the Henderson's, I am recovering from a busy visit with my family in California. While spending time with a two and a half-year-old and a one-year-old this past week, I stretched many dormant parts of my mind and body. By far, just after my quads, the muscle that got used the most was somewhere on the face between my eyes. It was the furrow that appeared the hundreds of times I heard the question, "Why?". It would begin with a raised eyebrow and deepen into a thought that always produces a wrinkle. As I mused throughout the week about the constant curiosity of my grandson, I began to realize how few times I now ask the question 'why' in my life. The following thoughts are a collection of asides I have gathered on what I will call the metamorphosis of the question why - demonstrated by a switch in punctuation.

Why?

Ah, the innocence of the question mark following the

Violet finds an answer.

word 'why'. While us adults begin to see it as a bit of manipulation or a great way to keep our attention, I've found that about 90% of the whys are sincere. Consider how much information the human brain becomes flooded with between the ages of 0-20.  There is a spark of imagination and genius that wants detail to fuel the burning fire of knowledge. Of course, the most frustrating use of the 'why' is when rules or directions are involved. Those authority figures want us to just accept that they would not be asking us to do something unless it was important or necessary. But the young mind wants more than just our words, it wants the reason for the request. There is an element of respect, honor, and trust that can be taught at this delicate time, but it doesn't come simply. This week with Deo, and began to see that sometimes, he seemed to be taking note of whether or not the answer was consistent. Perhaps this is the genesis of learning trust through learning how the adult responds to your questioning. And just about the time you see that they might be actually toning down the 'why?' habit, they turn 11 or 12, and now you hear a different kind of 'why'. 

Why!

Adolescence and young adulthood often find ourselves adding a heightened voice and passion in our questioning with 'why'. No longer are we interested in cajoling or coaxing our surroundings for more detailed information. In fact, many times the details are not that important to us anymore. We are going headlong into the wild excitement of making our mark in our world. Our favorite quote becomes a derivative of George Bernard Shaw's ""You see things, and you say 'Why?' But I dream things that never were, and I say 'Why not?'," with an exclamation point at the end. We push and push until we get to the top of whatever hill we are climbing. Some take a road leading to destructive habits and causes for a time, fully engaged in the 'WHY!' until they find themselves worn out from the screaming nature of their lifestyle. Others take a more traditional approach, but still there is that flair for the energetic that drives them to find their answers.

Why. 

Somewhere past an age of later maturity, the circumstances of our lives draw us to a place where we no long use punctuation at the end of our 'why'. It is a word we more likely will find ourselves thinking vs. speaking as we go through our days and our lives. It's importance and vitality do not diminish with the change in tone and use. We still seek a response, but we probably have a good idea of what the answer is. We are just looking for a little more detail, a deeper perspective, something we can learn and pass along to those still using the question mark and the exclamation point.

Getting personal on where I am on the 'why' scale.

As I answered my grandson's 'why' questions in the early part of my visit, I could see that I was doing my dogged best to keep his sharp little mind stimulated. It was a fun game to provide detail and deeper detail to his quest. I even saw glimpses of what was to come and was reminded of my 9-year-old at home in Illinois who is on the cusp of adding the exclamation point on most of his 'whys.' And then gradually, I started turning the tables on him and asking him to answer the question 'why?' As I observed the determined look on his face, tempered by a quick giggle, I realized that I had squelched my 'why,' regardless of the punctuation needed, nearly eight years ago now.

The event that silenced my seeking, demanding or pondering many questions was the loss of my oldest son, Seth. It isn't that I never ask why, as clearly much of the material in this blog has come from the results of questioning and deciphering information, but I realized this week that I have accepted that there just may be some questions I can't have answered. And unlike the times when I provided a 'good enough' stab answer at one of Deo's many queries, many of the questions that arose from the death of my son are ones that I don't want answered unless they are provided with a settled and confident assurance. I can't deal with feeling like I am walking on a tightrope between two towers when it comes to some questions, so I can see that I've decided to avoid them altogether.

The sobering effect that this kind of loss and there are many variations of it, have on life are many. But this one, the hesitation to continue to the human quest of 'why' is one that I now see can be debilitating. It not only diminishes your ability to push toward new mountain tops, but it can also hinder your journey to finding some inner peace. There are twisted up and knotted places that reside inside us, and it's answering or solving the 'whys' that help them to ease. To smooth out. To rest. If even I don't like the details of the answer to the whys surrounding my son's loss, I now have a new resolve to ask them. The act of typing those words for the world to see made my stomach twinge a bit.

Sometimes, there just isn't a prepared answer.

As I was explaining Deo's 'whys' this week and turning back to him with a few of my own ("Well Deo, tell me...Why did the chicken cross the road?") I kept remembering a piece of a letter written by an unknown author to strictly practicing Jews now converts to Christianity called "Hebrews". It describes faith, and what components are part of its makeup. In context, these early Christians had gone through some tremendous loss, many of them watching family and friends persecuted and killed for their beliefs. Surely they must have been asking 'why', and also, like me, a little concerned about the lack of a specific answer. They were told that despite the lack of evidence, they could find rest in faith. That 'faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see'.  In my current place, I often feel my faith is questionable, but what I am now encouraged by is that I can replace my unease in asking some tough why questions with confidence and assurance that an answer does exist. And some day, I will have it. The answer is out there, but either I am not prepared for it, or the answer isn't fully developed. I now believe I can live with that.

And all because a 2.5-year-old insisted on asking me 'why?'....

So I will resume my current seasoned state of 'why.' and open up some new doors of questions. No doubt there may also be some other punctuations to follow my questioning, as I can be pretty persistent. Hmmm. I guess the apples didn't fall far from their tree. I have created a cocktail for our toast tonight called "The Answer to the Question" which will no doubt help to unknot all the places on our shoulders that represent the end of a busy week. So here's to asking 'WHY', and the hope that we may even have a bit of 'why not' in our weekends. CHEERS, FRIENDS!

Joy's The Answer to the Question Cocktail**

2 oz of Ambassadeur Red Vermouth
2 oz of Peach Brandy
2 oz of Gin
Splash of Triple Sec
4 oz of Cherry Juice

Fill a shaker with crushed ice. Add all ingredients, and shake hard. Strain into a martini glass. Garnish with an orange. Serves 2.

**Always drink responsibly. Never drive after drinking alcohol.