How The Questions We Ask Shape the Lives We Live
What is guiding me?
Once again, we arrive at the start of a new year when many people turn toward resolutions or feel a pull to re-start, re-set, or do things differently in the year ahead. It can be a valuable moment to pause and gently check:
Am I being and becoming who I want to be? (who)
Am I moving in the direction that feels right? (where)
And how am I actually going about it? (how)
As we reflect, it can also be wise to orient ourselves toward a guiding Light — something larger that feels true, good, and beautiful to help us navigate an unfolding, often complex life.
And there is something more to check that matters deeply:
What questions am I asking?
Asking different questions may help us live different lives. Much of the time, the questions that shape our lives operate quietly in the background. They are often unconscious and largely shaped by social conditioning. Questions such as:
How can I fit in?
(rather than: Where do I have a felt sense of belonging?)What can I get out of this situation or person?
(rather than: What can I offer? How might we collaborate and create something that works for everyone?)What can I show off? (cringe, cringe…)
My curious mind is always asking questions. So, I’ve learned that it matters what questions I feed it. I often recall something the great Jungian analyst Dr James Hollis once said: “If you want a bigger life, ask bigger questions.”
If I want to change my life and perhaps, in a small but meaningful way, contribute to change in the wider world (even as that sounds a little too big to say out loud), then it feels important to pay attention to both my guiding light and the questions I am living from.
I like walking in nature, especially among trees. Sometimes I walk with friends (who are often walking somewhere else in their own part of the world), and other times I walk alone with what I think of as a seed question — something I quietly place into the “garden” of my inner space. I find it helpful to visit that inner garden and notice what is sprouting and growing there. If I don’t tend to it regularly, it can start to go a little wild. All kinds of weeds can take over surprisingly quickly. And yet, I don’t really experience that inner space as separate from the outer one.
The other day, the early morning smell of the cypress trees in my garden, catching the direct gaze of a magpie, or hearing birds moving playfully through the branches, brought an immediate blossoming of delight inside me. These moments help me more than I sometimes realise, especially when life brings multiple challenges at once.
When things feel difficult, I can become overly focused on solving problems. When that happens, I lose balance. I notice it in small ways, like suddenly craving something crunchy or sweets (is that your ‘thing’ too?) as a sign that something in me is hungry, not for food, but for attention and nourishment of a different kind.
What seems to help is not so much searching for joy or any kind of a ‘fix’ but gently grounding myself and broadening my perspective to notice the small delights already appearing, quietly and unexpectedly, all around.
Perhaps this, too, is a question worth living into as we begin the year:
What am I orienting myself toward, and what questions am I allowing to guide me?
As this year begins, I’m continuing to create spaces where these kinds of questions can be explored slowly, together — through workshops, groups, and ongoing practice. They are places to pause, to listen more deeply, and to tend both the inner and relational gardens we live from. If that resonates for you, you’re warmly welcome to stay connected.
Biliana