"Why?" Is A Dangerous Question

In my coaching practice, I often notice that when my clients feel discouraged or disempowered, they ask a lot of “why?” questions: “Why is it so hard for me to find love?” “Why do I never have enough money?”

I’ve learned that these aren’t really questions at all, so much as expressions of self-doubt or self-hatred. Basically, they mean: “I feel trapped in a pattern and can’t accept myself till I get rid of it.” That kind of “why?” just creates more of a feeling of being stuck (“analysis paralysis”) and takes a person further from any sense of purpose in life.

In my twenties, I suffered from writer’s block. When I’d try to write a song or poem, I’d feel a burning crater in my chest and total worthlessness as an artist. I wanted to know *why* that was, so I went to therapy and found out. But guess what? The burning crater was still there, and I still couldn’t write.

So I tried other things — automatic writing, hypnosis, drugs, etc. — to force my way through the writer’s block. And I succeeded. But ten albums and two books later, guess what? The burning crater is still there, still spitting lava, still saying, “You’re no good, Paul.”

It’s only now, in my forties, that I’ve begun to ask, “What is this thing in my chest I’ve spent so much life running from? Could I be relating to it differently?”

We aren’t here to make a little “content” and then die. We aren’t here to be productive, well-oiled machines. We’re here to listen to the small, visionary voice within us, which also happens to be the part of ourselves we most want to get rid. That is true creativity. That is true alignment. As Joseph Campbell said, “Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.”

Why does the progress have to be so hard? I don’t know. I only know that loving what is hard is progress.

Caspar David Friedrich, "Monk by the Sea" (1808)