Catechization

“Always a beautiful answer is the person who asks the beautiful question.” - e.e. cummings

Understanding lives in the questions.  Discovery of this truth tilts the axis of my world in a slightly different and positive angle. Questions beget connection.  Experts handing out networking tips tell us that the fastest way to get someone comfortable and talking is to ask them questions about themselves. I learn working my way through a host of ambiguous assignments at the office that the way to finding focus and solutions is quizzing the plethora of experts I’m privileged to lead.

Years ago, I confine my teenager to the car and start driving west on the interstate.  I have no idea where we are going, but after months in a continuous loop of rote struggles, we are at an impasse. The only thing I know for certain is where we aren’t going:  Home, so he can mute me by sealing himself in his room until yet another squall in our never-ending storm system passes.  In order to get to a place of understanding, we need to start from a place neither of us can run from. 

Trapped together in a moving vehicle, I fire a barrage of questions. Empathetic, not berating; it is about grasping where he is coming from so that I can support him in a way he can truly feel.  In order to be the shelter and lodestar he doesn’t even realize he is seeking, I need to get into the head and heart of this conflicted soul and understand the source of all of his turbulence. We aren’t getting out of the car until he lets me inside. 

There are moments when he is so frustrated at his inability to express himself and my ignorance of his plight, that he dismisses me, quite angrily.  In fact, at one point I seriously question whether he might take me out with the ice scraper lying on the floor in the back seat.  There are bouts of silence I patiently wait through, confident that he trusts I have his back:   I know he will look for different ways to tell his story until he hits on one that I can hear. It will just take some time. Nearly 100 miles later, he softens and we reach an understanding.  By the time we are home again, he is thanking me for a good conversation.

My unwavering love for my children breeds this tenacity.  My insatiable quest for understanding is all about getting clear about how to not only do my job as their mother, but to exceed expectations in my role.  I cannot let them down.

I want to be the beautiful answer for the important people in my life.  Being that person doesn’t mean we never misunderstand each other. It means being brave enough to ask the beautiful questions.  The beautiful questions are the hard ones. They’re the ones most people are afraid to ask because they can be so scary they elicit a ferocious response that makes us want to wilt in retreat.  Or flee in silence.  Or give up and call it quits.

Sometimes the beautiful question is not expressed in words at all, it’s in the individual standing beside you, that precious soul who yearns to be understood, supported and loved.