I’ve spent my entire life asking, “Why?” only to be disappointed by the amount of adults that want to engage in that same pursuit. It took a 7 and 8 year old to make it all worth it.
At some point in life we all ask “Why?”
Why do I have to drink my milk and eat my vegetables?
Why do I have to do my homework?
Why are people mean to each other?
Why does the world exist?
Why do people we love die?
The problem with “Why?” questions are the answers. They’re vast, and often times difficult.
Why spend time figuring out why you need algebra when you can just get a passing grade and never have to think about it again?
Why concern yourself with existential questions that may never have a perfect answer?
Life is hard enough, and “Why?” only makes it harder.
This was frustrating for me because I love “Why?” It’s why I read Descartes, Emerson, or C.S. Lewis. It’s why I listen to Sam Harris and Jordan Peterson podcasts.
But no one seemed to care. Not my friends, not my family, not my co-workers. Most of them were focused on “What?”
When everything changed
I can’t discuss the details, but a couple days ago my wife and I decided to foster a sibling pair in need.
And while it’s been tiring and trying. The one thing I’ve enjoyed is “Why?”
Why are there reflective markers on the road?
Why can’t they have juice late at night?
Why is exercise important for dogs?
I love “Why?” again.
Sometimes I don’t have the answers, but that just sends me off exploring for them so that next time they ask I can tell them.
And the best part is the kids have loved the actual answers a lot more than the all too common answer I received as a child: because.
What’s the point
I always thought I was preparing (and am preparing) for something great in life.
Knowing why was powerful, but it was never a power I could unleash.
Until now.
Two little girls showed me, again, that knowing why is important. And maybe giving them real answers will inspire them to always ask:
Why?
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