The Ground Beneath the Question
I’ve noticed this over the years, and it showed up again in a group meeting where someone asked me a question and the answer that came didn’t really answer it, not in the way it was asked. It wasn’t purposeful obfuscation, it’s just the premise of the question didn’t feel true to me, so something else was spoken into instead. The part that I could speak to, the part that felt steady and true.
But I was asked why I hadn’t answered the question.
I shared that I wasn’t trying to be evasive, I just didn’t agree with the ground the question was standing on. And even saying that felt clumsy, like trying to name something that was already slipping away.
There are moments where words trip over themselves or won’t come at all. I’ve had those moments plenty before and they’re important to note, a quiet no happening realtime. Like trying to fit something into a shape it doesn’t belong to.
I think we often expect answers to arrive cleanly. Ask the question, receive the response. Especially in these kinds of conversations. A spiritual Google of sorts. But I don’t speak from a store of answers. I speak from what feels alive, from what feels true, and that doesn’t always line up with what’s being asked.
I remember years ago saying to Martyn (who was struggling with a similar interaction) that you don’t need to speak to what someone wants to hear. You need to speak to what needs to be said, or maybe what needs to be heard. I’m not even sure by whom. Sometimes it isn’t clear. It’s just that something wants to be spoken, and something else doesn’t.
A lot of questions are built on ground that never gets looked at. Assumptions about how life is meant to be. What should be possible. What the problem is. The question comes from there, and all that’s wanted is an answer that fits.
But if the ground is shaky, anything built on it will be too.
Responding from somewhere else can feel like not answering at all. It can feel unsatisfying. But sometimes it’s the only place an honest response can come from.
I’m noticing more and more that integrity isn’t about having the right words. It’s about not forcing them. Letting answers be partial. Or sideways. Or not arrive at all.
The real invitation isn’t just about answering the question, but to feel into where it’s coming from. To notice the ground beneath it. And to see whether it can really hold what’s being asked.
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Thank you for walking alongside me ~ Imogen
It's strange when a guide is spoken to as if they are an oracle. Should you be able to answer every question? It wasn't so long ago that perhaps in stricter traditions a question would be answered with a koan (I hope I got that right, lol). Trying to figure out an answer to a question to eventually submit to the truth of what is out of exhaustion of the mind and that is-ness is not the content of the original question.
There is what naturally arises and if the body arises with fear anxiety then that is what it is. If only the nervous system would do as we like... now it's personal again. The chicken crossed the road. Perhaps it was anxious or confused or chased, but it happened and the chicken accepts it.