On Questions

The second reflection in Roots of Reflection is titled On Questions.

The illustration chosen by Mossquill has been given the penciled title Echoes of Uncertainty by an unknown hand. It is a fitting name, though I suspect Mossquill himself might have smiled at it. He never seemed particularly troubled by uncertainty. If anything, he appeared rather fond of it.

Years ago, while wandering through Diamondmere, I met a watchmaker whose workshop was crowded with clocks in various states of repair. Some kept perfect time. Others had long since surrendered the attempt. Between conversations, she would often pause beside one resting on her bench, listening to it as though it were trying to tell her something.

One afternoon I asked whether she already knew what was wrong with it.

She laughed. "If I knew," she said, "I'd have fixed it already."

For years I thought she was joking. Only later did I understand that much of her work consisted not of repairing clocks, but of asking increasingly better questions.

Why had this wheel worn unevenly?

Why had this spring weakened before the others?

What had happened years earlier that could still be leaving its mark today?

Each answer uncovered another question waiting patiently beneath it.

I have often remembered her while trying to make sense of my own life. Whenever I have been tempted to search for immediate answers, I have found myself thinking instead of her workshop, where understanding seemed to arrive one careful question at a time.

We are encouraged to admire certainty. It sounds confident, decisive, reassuring. Questions, by comparison, appear unfinished, almost inconvenient. Yet the wisest people I have known have shared one curious habit. They were remarkably comfortable saying, "I don't know."

Not because they lacked knowledge. But because they understood that certainty can sometimes bring inquiry to an end before it has had the chance to become understanding.

Perhaps that is why Mossquill trusted questions more than answers. Answers bring a conversation to a close. Good questions continue speaking long after the conversation has ended.

If this page has stayed with you, perhaps the illustration should too.

View Echoes of Uncertainty