More Questions than Answers

There’s a podcast that I occasionally listen to called: ‘More Questions than Answers’ I found it because the phrase was in my mind, I searched for the phrase and I was intrigued by the title. It bills itself as a paranormal quiz show, with a Brit as the host and chief questioner, and two Minnesotan woman (doncha’ know). It’s trivia night with ghosts and hauntings.

I’ve been thinking about what I know (call them answers) and all the things that I’m curious about (questions). The question pile is certainly larger, especially when you toss some of answers into the discard pile because it’s knowledge no longer needed. Like bulk erasers (to erase audio tapes en masse) or being able to edit audio tape with a razor blade. The half-life of knowledge is so much shorter these days. Dial-up telephone modems? Shortwave radio?

Remember being in school? Teachers and professors would ask, ‘Do you have any questions?’ I had so many questions, seldom on the topic at hand, but questions that I would search for the answers of the moment.

Questions.

What is the meaning of life? Why are we here? Are we alone in the universe? What is my purpose? Where did our universe come from? What existed before the universe began? Where does love come from? Why does love go away? Why do terrible things happen to good people? Am I going to survive this? Will I survive the next time? When will I be able to move on? Will the grief last forever? How did this happen? How did this jerk get elected? Why aren’t people more caring? Why am I so hard on myself? Do you understand me? Do mean people even know that they are mean? Is there a fine line between self-care and selfishness? Will I be able to sleep tonight? Will I live through this night?

So many questions.

If you’re a parent, you remember the ‘Why?’ phase during toddler-hood. I am not sure I ever grew out of that phase.

So I have a question for you: What question are you asking yourself over and over? Would you share it with me?