I’ve been on a search for answers before. We all have. And maybe…we all are. Always.
For me, sometimes those answers laser cut across the decisions of my career: Am I doing enough? Did I make the right choice? Should I make the change? Where is this all leading and will it lead to where I hope to go?
Other times, the intensity for which I’ve searched for answers in love created divots in my reality: Why me? What do I even want? What does partnership really look like? Am I doing this completely wrong?
And if I let them, the seek for “hidden” answers about “what’s the meaning of life?” will send me on an existential tail spin with the gravitational force of the sun.
We all do it. And if you’re anything like me, the minute you find peace in one area of life, you start excavating another area. It’s like a damn whackamole, questions arising two feet down right when you’ve popped off the one in front of you.
But what if the answer is in the negative? Like the art forms where what you’re looking at is actually the shadow of the outlines rather than the outlines themselves. Meaning, the answer is actually the question.
The answer to “What’s next?” is… that which is right now.
The answer to “Who will love me?” is… I’m the one to love.
The answer to “Where am I going” …is where I am.
The answer to “What do I need? ..is what do I have.
The answer to “What does this all mean” is that it means what it does.
And so on. Answers don’t finish the question, often times they are the negative of the very question itself. But it takes relinquishing control, and releasing our obsession with more, and giving up the our preference with thinking about future/past over present to accept that. When we can let go of all of that, we’ll see that if we can ask the question, oftentimes we’re staring directly at a version of the answer. It depends on if we’re willing to look there.