Asking Questions

Getting set up in a new country has given me a much greater appreciation for seeing “how things work”. When you emigrate intentionally to a new place, there results a maybe more conscious effort on your part to fit into how things work.

I think in my country, I felt like more of a misfit. Now I at least have a good reason why I know that I am. It’s not such a vague feeling anymore as it is a tangible reality any time (okay, maybe not any but a lot) that I want to do something or find out something that to me makes sense, but here isn’t necessarily how people were thinking about it or looking at it.

By that I mean, I’ve been asking a lot of questions. Really out of curiosity. We all know what that did to the cat, as they say. But I can’t help it. I’m just that kind of person that emails strangers and government agencies to find out what they meant by this or that, how it all works. Someone who wants more details out of life and seeks them out, sometimes at great outlay of energy.

I think in asking these kinds of questions, I don’t know what I make myself into, but maybe you invoke some kind of Possible Realities and help to be one of the ones who chooses how this or that shape will express itself in its concrescence as it leaves the virtual and enters social and physical spheres of reality.

Asking questions makes things happen, can bring about changes. And can be a great source of agitation if you cling too hard to what you think those answers are going to be.

Maybe that’s the thing of it all, it’s not looking harder and harder for answers, but asking better and better questions.