{"id":10789,"date":"2012-05-11T12:24:22","date_gmt":"2012-05-11T16:24:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=10789"},"modified":"2012-05-11T14:10:17","modified_gmt":"2012-05-11T18:10:17","slug":"who-what-when-where-why-how-and-whether-to-ask-or-not","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2012\/05\/who-what-when-where-why-how-and-whether-to-ask-or-not\/","title":{"rendered":"Who, What, When, Where, Why, How, and Whether to Ask (or Not)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

[Image:\u00a0<\/em>Many Questions No Answers<\/a>, by Norwegian artist Trine Meyer Vogsland
\n(acrylic on watercolor paper; 24x32cm)]<\/em><\/p>\n

From whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

LXXII<\/strong><\/p>\n

If all rivers are sweet
\nwhere does the sea get its salt?<\/p>\n

How do the seasons know
\nthey must change their shirt?<\/p>\n

Why so slowly in winter
\nand later with such a rapid shudder?<\/p>\n

And how do the roots know
\nthey must climb toward the light?<\/p>\n

And then greet the air
\nwith so many flowers and colors?<\/p>\n

Is it always the same spring
\nwho revives her role?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Pablo Neruda [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

Self-inquiry is simple. It does not require you to do anything, change anything, think anything, or understand anything. It only asks you to pay careful attention to what is real.<\/p>\n

I have two sons. When they were about four, they both went through a phase of having nightmares. I would go into the room and switch on the light. Two small eyes blinked at me from the corner.<\/p>\n

“What’s the problem?” I’d ask.<\/p>\n

“Daddy, there’s a monster in the room,” a timid voice would reply. Now, I had more than one choice of how to respond. I could tell my frightened boy that it was not true, there was no monster, go back to sleep. That response is the equivalent of reading a book that says, “We’re all one, there is no problem, just be with what is.” Fine ideas, but they don’t help much. I could also have offered to feed the monster cookies, talk with the monster, negotiate. That approach is like some kinds of psychotherapy. Treat the problem as real, then fix it on its own terms. But the only real solution I ever found was to have a good look. Under the bed, in the closet, behind the curtains, we undertook an exhaustive search.<\/p>\n

Eventually my sons would let out a deep sigh, smile at me, and fall back to sleep. The problem was not solved but dissolved. It was never real in the first place, but it took investigation to make that a reality.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Arjuna Ardagh [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

XIV<\/strong><\/p>\n

And what did the rubies say
\nstanding before the juice of pomegranates?<\/p>\n

Why doesn’t Thursday talk itself
\ninto coming after Friday?<\/p>\n

Who shouted with glee
\nwhen the color blue was born?<\/p>\n

Why does the earth grieve
\nwhen the violets appear?<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Pablo Neruda\u00a0[source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

The best way to find out things… is not to ask questions at all. If you fire off a question, it is like firing off a gun; bang it goes, and everything takes flight and runs for shelter. But if you sit quite still and pretend not to be looking, all the little facts will come and peck round your feet, situations will venture forth from thickets and intentions will creep out and sun themselves on a stone; and if you are very patient, you will see and understand a great deal more than a man with a gun.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Elspeth Huxley [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Not from whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

[Image: partial screen capture of open questions on quora.com as of Thursday, May 10, 2012]\n

([source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

Questions About Angels<\/strong><\/p>\n

Of all the questions you might want to ask
\nabout angels, the only one you ever hear
\nis how many can dance on the head of a pin.<\/p>\n

No curiosity about how they pass the eternal time
\nbesides circling the Throne chanting in Latin
\nor delivering a crust of bread to a hermit on earth
\nor guiding a boy and girl across a rickety wooden bridge.<\/p>\n

Do they fly through God’s body and come out singing?
\nDo they swing like children from the hinges
\nof the spirit world saying their names backwards and forwards?
\nDo they sit alone in little gardens changing colors?<\/p>\n

What about their sleeping habits, the fabric of their robes,
\ntheir diet of unfiltered divine light?
\nWhat goes on inside their luminous heads? Is there a wall
\nthese tall presences can look over and see hell?<\/p>\n

If an angel fell off a cloud, would he leave a hole
\nin a river and would the hole float along endlessly
\nfilled with the silent letters of every angelic word?<\/p>\n

If an angel delivered the mail, would he arrive
\nin a blinding rush of wings or would he just assume
\nthe appearance of the regular mailman and
\nwhistle up the driveway reading the postcards?<\/p>\n

No, the medieval theologians control the court.
\nThe only question you ever hear is about
\nthe little dance floor on the head of a pin
\nwhere halos are meant to converge and drift invisibly.<\/p>\n

It is designed to make us think in millions,
\nbillions, to make us run out of numbers and collapse
\ninto infinity, but perhaps the answer is simply one:
\none female angel dancing alone in her stocking feet,
\na small jazz combo working in the background.<\/p>\n

She sways like a branch in the wind, her beautiful
\neyes closed, and the tall thin bassist leans over
\nto glance at his watch because she has been dancing
\nforever, and now it is very late, even for musicians.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Billy Collins [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

…show patience towards everything in your heart that has not been resolved and to try to cherish the questions themselves<\/em>, like sealed rooms and books written in a language that is very foreign. Do not hunt for the answers just now — they cannot be given to you because you cannot live them. What matters is that you live everything. And you must now live<\/em> the questions. One day perhaps you will gradually and imperceptibly live your way into the answer.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Rainer Maria Rilke [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

Interview<\/strong><\/p>\n

The ladies men admire, I’ve heard,
\nWould shudder at a wicked word.
\nTheir candle gives a single light;
\nThey’d rather stay at home at night.
\nThey do not keep awake till three,
\nNor read erotic poetry.
\nThey never sanction the impure,
\nNor recognize an overture.
\nThey shrink from powders and from paints…
\nSo far, I’ve had no complaints.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Dorothy Parker [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

Remember Googlewhacking<\/a>? (Maybe not; it was one of those fads which never quite got off the ground.) The idea behind this “game” was simple. It just challenged a player to come up with a pair of words which produced exactly one<\/em> search result when entered into Google’s Search field. Almost as satisfying, and you don’t even have to go online to try it: come up with an original<\/em> critical question which no one will likely ever answer — or even want to. Barry Mann pulled the trick off in 1961 (with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek):<\/p>\n

[Below, click Play button to begin <\/em>Who Put the Bomp. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 2:47 long.]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

[audio:whoputthebomp_barrymann.mp3|titles=’Who Put the Bomp’|artists=Barry Mann]<\/div>\n

[Lyrics<\/a>]<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image:\u00a0Many Questions No Answers, by Norwegian artist Trine Meyer Vogsland (acrylic on watercolor paper; 24x32cm)] From whiskey river: LXXII If all rivers are sweet where does the sea get its salt? How do the seasons know they must change their shirt? Why so slowly in winter and later with such a rapid shudder? And how […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[247,1393,50,251,713],"tags":[1078,1141,1926,2090,2989,2990,2991,2992,2993,2994,2995],"class_list":{"0":"post-10789","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-ruminations","7":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","8":"category-language-writing_cat","9":"category-poetry-writing_cat","10":"category-humor-writing_cat","11":"tag-rainer-maria-rilke","12":"tag-billy-collins","13":"tag-pablo-neruda","14":"tag-questions-and-answers","15":"tag-trine-meyer-vogsland","16":"tag-arjuna-ardagh","17":"tag-elspeth-huxley","18":"tag-quora-com","19":"tag-dorothy-parker","20":"tag-barry-mann","21":"tag-googlewhacking","22":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-2O1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10789","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10789"}],"version-history":[{"count":20,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10789\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10807,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10789\/revisions\/10807"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10789"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10789"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10789"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}