Question

July 25, 2016

Greetings from the start,

In every morning there is a promise.  Some days it is easy to miss or ignore because it seems to fade, dissolve in the events that fill every moment from first light. 

This week I spent with my family away from the world, nested on our own little slice of beach facing the eastern horizon.  Each morning, armed with a mug of coffee, I waited for the sunrise.  It was impossible to miss what we are promised every day.

There is a moment just before the sun comes up on the water; the sky is changing from navy to rose to pale blue.  The horizon holds the deepest color, a dramatic introduction to what comes next.  Reddish orange and pink, shimmering on the dark blue water, rich in texture and color, filled with the potential of the day.  In that moment there is the promise, and there is a question.

For a few days we lived like we meant it.  Eating too much, sleeping too much, laughing too loud, talking about anything, playing like we were three year old kids at the beach.  It takes a little time for me to decompress from my routine to the natural state that exists in this kind of environment.  I felt some of the change as the sun smooched my skin, as I exchanged time for reading, or when I woke from an unplanned nap. 

And there was this other thing.  Each day I would find myself in conversations with family and someone would ask a question.  Might seem innocuous enough, a normal part of everyday life.  Except when I am in ‘problem solving’ mode, every question is a nail to which I must apply my hammer.  I am in this mode most of my waking hours, and yet it is not really my natural state.

But over a few days I came to relax enough to understand that not every question is a search for information, it is not always something to be conquered to a desired outcome.  Sometimes it is a starting place for conversation, for searching. 

“How far do you think it is to Canada across the water?”  “I wonder how many people live here year round?”  “What do you suppose those birds are?”  “How long do you think we should cook this pizza?” “Do you think sandbars move?”  “How many bottle caps do you think are in this cup?” 

My instinct, and yours probably, is to figure out the answer.  The right answer.  This may take some deduction, or research, or to call on one’s education or seek information from others. 

In fact, the questions usually served as a place to seek out one another, the answers were not as important as the exchange, the launching of ideas and opinions.  The question served as a medium for us to explore; each other and ourselves. 

Some questions, as you can imagine, did not lead to great philosophical discussions.  I will also admit that not every conversation held any effort to answer the question or pursue any lofty end beyond passing a few minutes while waiting for the pizza to burn.  But there was still the lesson to be learned.

I enjoyed these few days of water and sand.  With no urgent moments, nothing more important to seek than the cool side of the pillow.  I felt some of the knots relax in me, in each moment of sun, each crash of waves on the beach, each paddle of the kayak across the lake.  I felt closer to peace with every question that brought laughter instead of a right answer.  I felt closest to my best self watching the sun begin our day at the horizon.

The promise of every day is made by the One who knows us.  It is the potential for us in every breath and each beat of our heart.  It is the hope in each sunrise, the symbol of a new start, another chance, a place to begin with a clear slate.  

And just before it is given to us, just before the sun pours into the coral colored line along the rippling water-horizon, there is a question for us to hear.  Not a question that must be conquered with a check in a box or a list or a black and white answer.  But a place to explore us.

What is the best you have to share with this day?

Hope this finds you answering,

David

Copyright © 2016 David Smith