One resource for answering all your questions – more thorough than Encyclopedia Britannica, more immediate than Google or Wiki, more personal than About or eHow or Ask Jeeves.
It’s a great concept, isn’t it? An all-knowing “Answer Man” – whether you call him your Guru, your God, your favorite book, your favorite site. Or possibly your imagination.
When we’re children, we’re all about the questions. Big questions. Little questions. Everything touches off wonder – we ask why the sky is blue, why ants work together but grasshoppers don’t, why we taste with our tongue instead of our fingers, why the moon at times is shaped like a sideways smile.
We ask where babies come from. Why things hurt. Why people must die.
Of course, as adults, we often have few answers. We look inward. We look elsewhere. We grapple with what we can’t comprehend.
Who, what, when, where, etc.
Some of us are about the data. We want facts. We seek what is concrete: who, what, when, where, and how.
Some of us are all about the why. Our balance depends upon it, though we recognize that we have no answers, no wisdom, only unending questions and along with them, an inability to find acceptance.
Funny though – we rarely question the good things – moments of happiness, the great job, the healthy child. Periods of smooth sailing which may go on for years. We assume we’ll fall in love, marry, have work we care about, make a home with our families. Tragedies will happen to other people, not to us. So we don’t ask “why am I in love” or “why have I been offered this opportunity.” Yet we torment ourselves over why a marriage ends, why a parent is abusive, why we can’t find happiness, why terrible accidents happen to good people.
Why me is the question born of suffering, not of joy.
The Answer Man: asking big questions
He’s a delicious fictitious character, reclusive and curmudgeonly, a middle-aged author of the best-selling work on spirituality. He’s a man who seemingly talks to God, yet his own life is a mess. The film is called The Answer Man, with Jeff Daniels as the protagonist. It’s a delightful tale of human failing and human spirit. Its quirky characters include a struggling single mother and a young man recently released from rehab. They’re trying to make sense of their lives, and they encounter the Answer Man, who has no answers at all.
The movie touches on “big questions” in life, like why there is suffering in the world, is there such a thing as destiny or fate, how much choice do we exercise in any of it – this thing we try to control and label as “life.” Underlying themes appear – second chances, reinvention, and our perpetual search for connection in a disconnected world.
The Answer Man is also one of the few films I’ve seen that deals with fathers and sons as a leitmotif – both their absence and presence in each others’ lives. That in itself is a topic worthy of elaboration; the plot offers us the love of a father who is taken by Alzheimer’s and then death, as well as the abandonment of two very different fathers – one who deserts his child emotionally, and the other, physically. We see the legacy left to each of the sons.
Open to further religious interpretations? No doubt.
Human to question, divine to whisper?
For me, the tale sparked a series of realizations, and of course – questions. But questioning is a gift. While I am no longer bombarded by the how and why of everything from two little boys, that doesn’t mean my sons have stopped questioning. And nor have I.
As adults, we often channel our questions into orderly categories. We pour them into spiritual vessels, compartmentalize them in order to cope with daily life, and we turn to science, philosophy, or possibly a shrink.
Have you found your coping mechanism, your acceptance, your answers?
Some of us choose to believe in the divine, whether it’s a clear voice or an occasional whisper. Some try to obliterate the questions, to silence them at all cost. Some accept the human condition in a different light, even as we chafe at its realities – equal parts capacity for wonder and for suffering, and the inevitable journey in which we seek meaning – with or without an Answer Man.
you May Also Enjoy
BLW, I don’t have a question or an answer for you. Just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed this post.
It won’t be long before the string of words I hear from my little one these days turn into questions, and admittedly, I have not thought about how I’m going to answer “the big questions”. I was actually taking notes on the comments Bad Mommy Moments received on her recent post on Santa. THAT’S how unprepared I am.
I suppose we all find a way to wing it don’t we? We gather from the recollection of our own past, borrowed experiences, the collective consciousness and hope for the best. And once they’re old enough, I am fully planning on asking them to Google their answers. Well, that’s my strategy for now anyway. Until someone comes up with a search engine more powerful than Google (although I highly doubt it).
Very insightful to ask why we humans don’t question the good things that happen to us. It’s like we expect good things to come our way; like we are entitled to all things wonderful, all the time. But let boulders fall into our world and we’re all up in arms asking why is this happening to me?; why is life’s not fair?; how could God let this happen? It’s so hard to take the good with the bad, the joy with the tragedy, the blessings with what we perceive as curses. Answer Man? Yes, I have one. I just have to work on asking the right questions.
Ah, Lisa. The right questions. Yes. I suspect you are a very wise woman.
Doubt and guilt have a way of making me question even the good things that come my way. “How long will this last?” “How screwed would I be if I lost this?” “Doesn’t someone else deserve/need this more than I do?”
Coping comes in all forms: the yes and no decisions, yoga, meditation, perspective check, telling myself there’s always tomorrow, not comparing, and lately, making a conscious choice to be in joy. (Who needs self-help books? Really. I’ve read maybe three in my entire life: one when my father died, one was required for a long-ago job, and one was Gretchen Rubin’s book.)
When my father got sick, my mom often asked why his diagnosis and later passing happened to our family. I tried to explain to her all of the good that was accomplished in my father’s life and all the moments he did cherish, attempting to refocus her mind on all the good things that happened to him and us. It is hard though to ask, why good things happen because there is an expectation that these things should happen. Hindus relate it back to karma, attributing both good and bad as a product of a past life.
BLW, your post is eloquent and insightful and you often have me thinking about life’s bigger questions. Thanks so much.
It’s funny, Rudri. I was just emptying the spam queue. Occasionally I actually look at it before I do, though most often I just “empty.” But I scanned, and a comment that was unusual caught my eye. It read: “You are so gifted. You are certainly being utilized by God in many ways.”
Well, that one was unique! And dramatic, and definitely spam for a company or product, but it got my attention. Especially today.
Whatever we believe, whatever we question, whatever we live through – who doesn’t like to think they might make a small difference? And I thought to myself (just before I hit delete) – I only hope that may be true, that writing might generate discussion, moments of appreciation, other perspectives. So thank you for your thank you.
I clicked “comment” because your post moved me. Then I read through the wise, wonderful comments, and those moved me, too. And then I read your comment about your spam: “You are so gifted. You are certainly being utilized by God in many ways.” And I thought – spam or no spam THIS comment is so very, very true. I heart you, BigLittleWolf.
Thank you, Jane. I don’t know what else to say, but thank you.
This post certainly got me thinking. I have learnt a lot from my daughter, who is three and now constantly asking questions, so far mainly mundane things like why she has to go to bed right now or why the sun sets at night and where does it go (OK well that took a bit of explaining I have to admit). Her acceptance of explanations is absolute, it is what it is and she moves on. I am trying to learn from this and not dwell on the ifs buts and maybes of life so much as I used to and simply enjoy where I am at right now.
I blog for answers. Really, that is what keeps me going. I ask and answer questions on the blog. It is where I air out the mental closet.
By no means is it my only coping mechanism- but it goes a long way. It really complements the exercise, hikes and reading I do. Seems to me that between all that and a few other things I get where I am going.
The other thing that I have found helpful is that I don’t expect to find answers to some questions. Unfortunately I have lost more than a few friends to things like cancer. I don’t spend much time asking why- I just try to live my life the best I can. It works better for me than being told that there is a plan that I am just unable to comprehend.
And I say that as someone who has a strong religious identity- but even so…
I constantly ask myself the big questions and think my biggest fear is that there’s not an Answer Man. I wonder if I would feel safer, saner, more at peace if there were one, even if He (or She) were wrong once in a while. But asking questions that have no answer, or no good answer? It’s terrifying to me, yet I can’t stop asking.
I personally have never heard someone tell someone else they were going to have a problem with the other person not knowing it all. Why is it so hard for people to say “I dunno?” It’s been awhile since I’ve been on your blog. Got some catching up to do.
I started reading this on Tuesday and quickly realized that there is more here than a simple reading…
A friend and I sat over coffee a while back. He has ALS (just 36 years old) and his wife recently decided their marriage was over. I have been dealing with my daughter’s father and his going from being an hour a month dad to thinking he could move our 9 year old into his house with his kids and she would love life and his wife etc within six weeks of his wife discovering, not by his choice, my daughter’s existence. (Now that was a mouthful). Both my friend and I had spent our fair share of time questioning… why? What next? Who is this person? For me, it was a trip down the rabbit hole in which I found that personal denial is one thing but attempting to work with someone choosing to live in denial is something very different.
We both wanted answers – we wanted to know that it would be okay… that we would be okay… that my daughter would be okay. Both information junkies and big picture people, we saw the potential for the bigger picture and trusted our individual paths, but there is still that desire to see into the future or to have answers.
Yet, we both agreed that, were we to have the opportunity to have the answers, neither of us would take that opportunity. Life unfolds – it evolves. I trust that it will be just as it is meant to – and I prefer to have that trust and belief than all the answers. And that sounds odd to me given my love of information – but then again, I am about the journey than the end result or the goal.
There is much to this post – and the movie sounds like one that might be worth seeing.
You raise so many issues in your response, T.E. The way our lives split apart when things happen that are beyond our control. The way others justify behaviors that shortcut any rational thinking (that we can discern, at least). Those who live in denial – denial of different sorts. Is not wanting to know the future – assuming one could – denial? If it is, I’m with you, but it’s a very different sort of denial from refusing to see oneself or the gravity of a situation in which you’re mired.
I dont’ see a contradiction in being a big picture person, a data gatherer, yet not wanting all the facts – as if we could ever have all the facts. It’s very human, don’t you think? That said, trying to make sense out of individuals (like ex-spouses) and their relationships to our children, well – I’ve about given up trying to understand what I find incomprehensible.
As for the movie, after seeing it not once, but twice (rotating as films do, through cable), I sought out reviews. They were mixed, and some considered the movie to be trite. I found it to be a workable mix of light, quirky, and questioning – without pursuing anything too heavily. That left us to fill in some of the blanks. It’s also set in Philadelphia (nice to see a city other than NY or LA as a backdrop) – also interesting as the city of brotherly love. I would watch it again for the questions it raises, and the air of hopefulness – albeit formulaic – that it leaves us with. Even the most flawed and wounded among us seek to connect. There’s reassurance in that.
Now I am that much more intrigued by the film. I have it on my list!
Your posts are intriguing in themselves – Thank you.
One of the things that surprised me when I was reading reviews of The Answer Man, after writing this post, was that none mentioned the father-son relationships that were explored. They seemed obvious to me, and worth paying attention to. Every male figure was dealing with the absence or presence of a father figure, or both. And in keeping with questions of spirituality, it was an obvious theme and yet was ignored.
Your writing certainly flies a bit above the normal intellectual level of most blogs. This is the sort of thing I hunt for in my reading and most of the people that I meet. I especially enjoyed the last few lines and think that this is a solution that creates unseen problems for a great many people. I’m not interested in simplifying my way of questioning or living life. My imagination remains too far reaching for me to pigeonhole myself my way of life, my way of thinking or my way of coping.
I am pleased to see that things have seem to of played out similarly for you.
Thank you Mr. Posky – and welcome. Glad you enjoyed, and it is always nice to encounter others who remain open, without a need to pigeonhole. (Liked your site, by the way!)