You know how young children seemingly ask a thousand and one questions, and that’s on a good day? They never cease to ask questions, their unbridled curiosity for the world at its highest. They don’t fear that there may not be an answer. They don’t get hung up on the question itself. If it doesn’t get answered, they may repeat the question several times, but sooner or later, a better or more interesting question pops in their head and they ask that.
Like the classic game of Pong, the questions bounce back and forth. It’s alright if you don’t hit the ball; just start again!
I think that as we grow up, we let society impede upon our spirit of inquiry, or that we feel we should be mature adults now that we’re all grown up. But who says mature adults can’t ask questions, as silly and crazy as they may be?
I don’t think anyone ever said we should stop our natural inquisitiveness we had when we were children. We just believed we’re supposed to, by watching others and learning how we ought to behave and how life ought to be. Imitation is helpful but only to the extent we’ve outgrown its usefulness in our lives.
Maybe we need to watch children, observe their behaviors, their playfulness and effortless wonder for the world, in order to remind ourselves that it’s okay to ask questions. Really, it’s okay.