âBe patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.“–Rilke

When the Mind Wonât Stop Asking đ
Those words of Rilke, written over a century ago, remind me that some of the hardest seasons in life are the ones that offer no answersâonly questions that echo back in silence.

Running into the Questions âïž
I was driving home Saturday morning after my weekly long run with a podcast playing in the background. The previous week had been difficult, and I had hoped the run would provide a reprieve from my worries. I started running well before the sun rose under the cloak of a starry sky, which served to keep my mind calm. Then, the rich crimson of dawn edged up the horizon, deepening from vermilion to the fiery orange of full sunrise. As if on cue, the monkeys in my mind began chatteringâan endless loop of questions followed by equally endless, devastating possibilities.Â
I tried to redirect my thoughts: âIf only this or that would happen, then everything will be fine,â I told myself. The problem with this ifâthen principle is that itâs meant for building new habits or personal change; I canât magically apply it to othersâor to the world at large. Even after my run, the mind monkeys continued their spirals. Then a line from the podcast caught my attention, âWhat I think Rilkeâs words are stating is that if we can learn to live in peace alongside the questions, this may allow us to witness the unfolding of the answers in some indeterminate future.â

An Invitation, Not a Reprimand đ
Of course, I had not heard Rilkeâs words, so I had to rewind the podcast in order to focus on the original quote. Those words felt like an invitation to hope, rather than a reprimand for my monkey mind. To be clear, it did not feel like a promise of a positive outcome, but rather hope for a greater understanding one day. Rilkeâs words seemed to affirm my questioning, as long as I let the questions simply âbe,â like one ingredient in the stew of life.

The Unsolved Nature of Life đ§
While I cannot speak for everyone, I think many of us live with unanswered questionsâand Iâm probably in the camp that has more than a few. Seasons of life bring different questions, but they often center around themes of health, purpose, relationships, concern for others, and the future. It is often uncomfortableâthe unsolved nature of life. We desire, like the fairy tales of our childhood, resolutions to problems in which we âall lived happily ever after.â We like knowing what is next; we desire to wrap up answers neatly and hand them over like a present. But life, as we eventually learn, isnât wrapped in tidy endings.

When Answers Refuse to Come đ€š
If you have ever encountered a personal crisis, or that of a loved one, you know the âhurry up and waitâ sense of time that often accompanies these scenariosâappointments scheduled off into the distant future, followed up by more appointments with no answers, only more maybes and/or more questions or concerns. It can feel like an autumn fog settling over a town in the early morning hours. You can see outlines of various possibilities, but still not know what the future holds. And yet, even in that fog, life quietly continues.Â

Coexisting with Uncertainty â
On one hand, Rilke seems to invite us to love the questionsâan improbable ask, given the weight of so many of lifeâs uncertainties. Perhaps, as the podcaster suggested, Rilkeâs words invite us to coexist with uncertainty rather than chase quick answers. Personally, when I face challenges, my first instinct is to âfix it,â whatever âitâ may be. However, most of lifeâs bigger questions are not, per se âfixableâ in a vacuum. There are many uncontrollable variables that often fill me with an anxious energy.
This is when I tend to lean into writing, outdoor movement (especially running and walking), as well as readingâtrying to learn as much as I can about the current challenge I am facing. Additionally, I will offer help (if I can be of service) to those for whom I am concerned. In this way, I feel like I am stretching and growing in understanding and empathy, rather than grasping and silently suffering.

The Garden Rule: Sleep, Creep, and Leap đȘ»
Iâve lived long enough to know that many answers only emerge with the sweet relief of distance and timeâlike the three-year rule of a perennial garden: sleep, creep, and leap. A long-ago biology professor once explained that in the first year of a newly planted garden, the plants appear to grow very little because theyâre focused on developing and strengthening their roots. The following year, roots are still growing and establishing, but they do have enough energy to create a bit more growth above ground. However, by the third year, the roots are fully established and the plant appears to âleapâ out of the ground with growth. So it can be with the answers to lifeâs questions.

Growing Through What We Donât Yet Understand đ
There are times in life where we cannot figure out why we keep facing one roadblock and one challenge after another. We wonder how much more we can endure, why we are faced with a certain situation, or why things are not going the way we imagined. Like that early decorative landscaped garden, we cannot see that our experiences are developing roots of strength and stability. We may not see that our ability to empathize, our talents, our emotional well-being, and even our souls, are stretching and strengthening. Later, we may look back and see that those setbacks were quietly shaping usâbuilding the strength weâd need for what came next.

The Ineffable Beauty of Living with Questions âš
As I further reflected on Rilkeâs words and my own lived experiences, I realized that there is a certain ineffable beauty that is created by living with questions because it asks us to rely upon faith and grace, granting us a greater purpose as a seeker and a doer.
We are not here to solve life, but to live itâwith curiosity, patience, and hope.
While hope does spring eternal, it is not the same as knowing the answers. Perhaps, thatâs the pointâit is more about trusting that our life story is continuing to unfold in its own time and season.

Light, Grace, and the Unfolding of Answers đ«
Finishing the drive home, I realized that Rilke had a point. As long as I have questions, as long as I seek answers, I am not only living, but I am living with an open, loving heart and a curious, empathetic mind. I have been fortunate to live to see questions answered, but I still have more questions to goâabout loved ones, about the world, and about myself.
Like the sunrise that began my run, the light of understanding will come againâslowly, beautifully, and in its own time. Until then, I feel grateful for lifeâs questions. They have strengthened my life in numerous ways and provided me with unpredicted opportunities for growth. In the words of John OâDonohue, âPerhaps the beauty of not knowing is that it keeps our hearts open enough to be surprised by grace.â I welcome that grace into my lifeâand I hope you do too.





































































