Answers Arriving in Stillness

I believe that it is always worth remaining with a question a little longer than one feels compelled to. This is my first attempt to describe what happens when I follow through on this intention.

In the space after my immediate impulse to deliver the answer, I first find stillness, and I must remember not to panic at this stage. If the first response is an answer or solution seemingly arriving from an impulse on the surface of my thinking, appearing as the sum of my intellectual capacities, my experience, and my intuition, the second response is a sense of subtle panic. An impulse telling me that if I stop respecting and following this first impulse, I will lose my ability to navigate in this crowded world. As if only the immediate response carries a voice that can be heard and respected.

But I let it pass, this subtle sense of panic carrying the illusion of a dystopia. Experience has shown me that nothing bad ever happens here. And I wait, while preparing myself for wherever my mind goes next.

Sometimes it just stops there. No alternative answer or truth occurs. Or so it seems.

On my courageous days, I leave the question unattended and listen to myself as the day progresses, only to discover that my mouth speaks what the mind refused to reveal. I listen carefully to the words that arrive when I am relaxed and ask nothing of the busy brain.

Or even better, I listen to the voices of the people I have shared this question with, and sharpen my ears as I sense them leaning into calm thinking, where answers emerge rather than being forced forward.

This usually happens when a meeting has ended and I remember to stay in my seat, lean back, take a deep breath, and enjoy the view of my peers following my lead.

And then I ask, "So what else is going on?"

We talk for a while about something seemingly unrelated to the matter, and I hold the inner question of why this specific matter has been chosen by the person in front of me. Still not searching for an answer, only helping my mind sit with reflection without demanding progression.

And then, in the space between six and eight minutes after calmness has been obtained, the answer arrives in the room.

And on the very good days, I once again restrain myself. I know that crashing impatiently after this first sensation of imminent truth is like chasing butterflies. I must let whoever received the impulse of an answer speak it out as far as the impulse takes them.

And then maybe we can start to play a little.

I enjoy the part where we move around the question and the answer and examine their character and strength. It becomes even better when we have the courage to leave it at this stage.

If the question allows it, I prefer leaving the rest to the actions of the people who needed the awareness rather than the specific answer.

Sitting with a question can be more efficient than chasing the solution. It can bring us closer to answers or awareness that contain emerging actions rather than controlled actions, and it can help us obtain more by doing less.

I believe there is a dynamic value in the paradox between answers and questions, and I believe it is valuable to strive for a stage where we can stay in the questions at least as long as we stay in the answers.

When I am led astray, I usually find the right path by searching for the right question rather than searching for the right answer.

— Mia