Sanity Notes #034: Why questions matter more than answers

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I have thought and written quite a bit about the loneliness I felt in childhood. My mother, who being lovely is a frequent reader of my writing, recently remarked to me that she was quite surprised to learn about this loneliness. She told me that when I was a boy, I always had friends around, that I seemed well-liked and to be enjoying my life.

In a session with my own coach recently, we were talking about where I felt alone or detached as a child. We were looking with the intent of better understanding the coaching work I am doing now. Like a good coach, she probed through layers until we got to a new understanding of what drove my childhood sense of loneliness.

My mom was right–I was not physically alone or without friends. The source of my loneliness was a feeling that much of my concern and attention were taken up with questions that others seemed entirely free of. I felt alone in the plane I existed on. Like I was sensing or suffering things others were not.

For as long as I can remember, I have had the feeling of carrying heavy questions. Questions that sometimes seem beyond language. I have felt in my body the questions of purpose: why am I here?  Also questions of belonging–why do I feel the way I do, this profound longing for more, for connection, for meaning? What is this being human? What is this place?

It took 16 years for me to begin finding others who carried similar questions. And my life since then has been driven in large part by a searching for others familiar with them. Like a mark on their soul. Like Neo finding out in The Matrix for the first time that others felt like him, that there was in fact more, that he was not crazy.

In my teenage years, I was drawn to religion. In my small hometown in Michigan, Christians were the only ones who seemed to be talking about hard questions—and they professed to have answers. I spent several years deeply ingrained in the evangelical church, studying alongside some of the premier theologians alive.

I took comfort in finding others who had hard questions and were willing to speak about them. I was drawn to the idea that they might have answers.

But over the course of those years, the answers proved insufficient for me. Ungrounded and over-simplified. I found myself sitting in a pew at 23 years old, hearing the pastor preach about the ways people in the congregation were falling short of what God intended for them, and knew right in that moment that I was done with the church.

But I was not done with the questions.

I thought maybe the answers were out there–there was so much I hadn’t yet done, seen, or tasted. In the rest of my twenties, I threw myself into experiences. I started companies, studied in France, learned new languages, and traveled the world.

I woke up at 35 feeling utterly exhausted, and I felt the questions reemerging. The endless doing, adventuring, experiencing...none of it had answered the questions. I awoke to a strong sense that I needed to stop moving and look inward, to return to the questions, to create the space for them to breathe.

My days now are filled with asking questions. Many who misunderstand coaching believe it’s about giving advice and being an expert. It is not. If you watched a recording of one of my sessions, you would find I do little talking. And when I am speaking, ninety percent of the time, I am asking a question.

As a child, questions made me feel alone. I felt I was carrying something no one else was.

Now, questions bring connection. I’ve come to see I am not alone in holding these questions. We are not alone.

They do bring understanding, but less understanding of answers than of the one holding the questions. They are tools of self-inquiry. And to inquiry of ourselves is, I am coming to learn, one of the most helpful practices in discovering our road home. The road by which we return to ourselves and discover the life and work that are waiting for us.

I am grateful to be in service of questions and of the humans holding them. If you find yourself holding questions in your own life that at times make you feel alone, fret not; you are not alone.

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With love,

Matt

Looking for some support? If now is the time to consider coaching (or a CEO peer circle) reach out here.