The Importance of Asking (the Right) Questions

Sometimes I catch myself racing to answers. I label the day, the work, the relationship—good, bad, right, wrong—and only later notice I never slowed down long enough to ask a real question. As I wrote in my journal: “Sometimes we come to conclusions and answers without actually being conscious of the question.”

A recent deep dive into Marcus Aurelius nudged me to pause. What if wisdom isn’t about having the fastest verdict, but about living inside better questions?

The trouble with quick conclusions

When we’re tired or scared, conclusions feel efficient:

• Today is turning out to be a bad one.

• I’m not failing at this.

• This date I’m on is just plain bad.

Conclusions collapse complexity. They give the illusion of control while quietly narrowing our options and tightening our bodies. A wiser move is hidden in a line I scribbled to myself: “Break the conclusion up into questions.” Questions don’t erase reality; they widen it. They invite choice—and with choice, the nervous system often finds just a bit more room to breathe.

A kinder way in: break it down

Apply these questions specifically to the conclusion, “Today is turning out to be a bad one.”

Take that sentence and walk it through:

1. What did I want for today—specifically? What do I want now?

2. What would be satisfying for me today (even if small)?

3. What matters most right now—(self-respect, rest, connection, service, earning, pleasure, etc…)?

4. Where have I already touched any of those today, and where haven’t I yet?

5. What is one small way I could still have a good day? Do action, soem self kindness? …

6. What do am I stlll in control of? What do I need to accept as not being in my control?

As you move through them, notice what shifts in your body. For me, jaw and chest soften; there’s a little more air in the room. That somatic change matters—it’s the body’s way of saying we’ve re-entered the window of tolerance, the zone where feeling and thinking can coexist. From there, we can be more flexbile and choose our next small step instead of bracing against the day.

What I want for us

Even as I’m writing this, I had to ask myself: “What is my driving force in putting these thoughts out there?” The answers felt big and a little general, but they still showed me a guiding light.

From my notes: “I want people to be kinder with themselves and eachother—less violent, more  open eyed, more gentle… clearer at communication, peace-giving, more calm and regulated, less stressed.”

I went a little deeper and asked myself what I mean by each these. Working in this way helped me find the inner connection I needed to feel into the integrity I was seeking to continue with this post.

That’s not about perfection. It’s about practicing freedom with discipline—meeting our lives with awareness, patience, and tolerance rather than force.

When “I’m not doing well at this” shows up

That sentence visits me at times. Instead of arguing with it, I ask three orienting questions (straight from my journal):

• What is my value in this? (Why does this matter to me?)

• What do I hope to achieve? (Name one or two human outcomes, not ten.)

• What would “doing well” look like before, during, and after?

Then I give myself a simple before / during / after check:

• Before: lower friction. Eat something. Water/tea. Close tabs. Decide to have a little grit.

• During: pick one structure (a timer, a short outline, a single next step). Let steadiness lead. Allow some curiosity.

• After: don’t skip the moment of completion. Good product, pride, ready to share. Even a tiny win deserves a full stop.

This isn’t a productivity hack. It’s a way to relate to ourselves without the quiet cruelty of constant verdicts. This peace amdist the storm can feel priceless.

A two-minute practice: The Question Reset

Use this when you feel the old conclusion tightening:

1. Name the verdict you’re holding (“I’m failing,” “This is ruined”).

2. Pick three questions from the list above, or create your own, and answer them in one sentence each.

3. Orient with your senses: feel the weight of your feet or seat; name one sound and one color in the room.

4. Choose one winnable move that takes under five minutes. Do only that.

5. Close with kindness: place a hand where your body worked hardest and say, “Thanks for trying.”

If any step spikes your stress to levels that bring an avalanche of self degrading thoughts, pause. Place a hand on your chest or belly; let your eyes land on something steady; look and feel for one square inch of “okay.” Breathe. Try again, maybe later.

Why this matters

Asking the right questions isn’t about being clever. It’s about returning to relationship—with yourself, your day, the person across from you. Questions restore movement where judgment freezes. They make room for nuance, mercy, and choice.

I often ask myself, “If I were to die tomorrow, would I be satisfied with what I’m doing now?” It’s not morbid to me; it’s clarifying. Most days the honest answer is: I can’t change everything, but I can change this next tiny thing. And when I do that with kindness, with some clarity, the world inside me becomes a little less harsh.

So if today is already stamped “bad,” try breaking that stamp into questions. See what loosens. See what becomes possible. And if nothing shifts yet, let that be information, not a failure. Freedom grows from small, patient moves made inside a kinder conversation with yourself.

Connect here to begin your journey