As previously posted, the question mark is by far my favorite punctuation mark. The period makes a statement; the exclamation point too often justifies someone shouting at us; and the colon and semi-colon still allow one person to do all the talking. The question mark is the only punctuation mark that invites a response; it’s the only mark that keeps the conversation going — intentionally. This week, I heard two great questions.
“Are you asking a question or offering a judgment?” said the first.
Great insight. Am I truly trying to understand? Do I respect another enough to listen well, to put comprehension of their perspective above my right to evaluate and assess?
Or… am I just sitting back, waiting to pounce… You take your turn. I’ll take mine. But when I do, I’ll let you know how wrong you are…
Asking questions is not simply an exercise in taking turns. Asking questions means seeking to understand — and giving up the right to make any decree at the end. It’s asking, listening, processing together. And when the perspective shared is different than our own, it is not time to be judgmental.
Next great question…
“Is this the year?!”
Funny. I heard this from multiple people, supposedly from different so-called “sides” (… uh… I don’t believe in “sides,” you know… I believe in all sorts of angles from all sorts of varied perspectives, but people like to pit us against one another, fictionally driving the narrative that one of us is all right and one of us is all wrong — without ever analyzing that there might be something right and wrong with both of us… but alas… I digress…) With the onset of the Fall Classic — the MLB’s 112th World Series — and two teams who have not known the ultimate success in decades, I heard that humble refrain…
Again… “Is this the year?”
I ask again because what strikes me most about the simple statement is the embedded hope within the query. To ask if this is the year, assumes that one doesn’t know the answer. It may be; it may not. But the hope equates to an active wishing and watching. Hope is so much more attractive than its often self-proclaimed opposites… disbelief, demandingness… Something about the person who waits with that earnest expectation of what’s important is absolutely beautiful.
And so I thought of those two questions, wrestling with my reaction to each — thankful that others invited a response and encouraged dialogue.
I wondered, too, about this political season. Let me rephrase: this brutal, polarizing, often rhetorically-ugly, political season. Wouldn’t it be nice if instead of telling others how we think… instead of all the self-proclamations… instead of the Facebook rants and raves… instead of the judgment… instead of any pouncing… instead of pitting ourselves against one another… instead of falling prey to the idea that one of us is all right and one of us is all wrong… Wouldn’t it be better and wiser and more respectful and loving of one another if we asked questions and sincerely attempted to understand?…
I have a great friend with whom I am processing much of this political season. We approach it differently, but our willingness to understand is a growth tool for us both. We ask a lot of questions… a lot of questions. It’s amazing how that works.
So wouldn’t it be wonderful if we refrained from judgment — both verbally and quietly, even in the back of our minds?
I’m hoping someday soon it will be our year.
Respectfully…
AR