4 min read
If you are a parent, you’ve certainly noticed that delightful (and sometimes exhausting) phase when your child hits the age of three or four — the “why?” stage. Why do I have to go to bed? Why can’t I sleep in your bed?Why can’t I eat sweets for breakfast? Why, why, why? It’s endless! You answer one question, and before you’ve finished speaking, another “why?” comes flying at you. It’s as if your child is a tiny philosopher, relentlessly searching for the truth.
At first, it’s charming. You marvel at their curiosity, their hunger to understand the world. But after the hundredth “why” in a single hour, it starts to wear you down. You catch yourself saying things like, “Because I said so!” or “That’s just the way it is.” And without realising it, you begin to teach them to stop asking questions.
This is where the tragedy begins. Children are naturally curious — they question everything because the world is new, magical, and full of mystery. But as they grow older, they learn to accept answers without thinking. Society rewards obedience, not questioning. And so, the child who once asked “why?” about everything becomes the adult who accepts “that’s just how it is” without a second thought.
“Question everything,” it says on the wall. This is not just graffiti; it’s a call to reclaim that childlike wonder. It’s an invitation to return to the innocence of a three-year-old who has the courage to ask “why?” about everything — fearlessly, endlessly, and joyfully. And then the second word appears like a challenge: “Why?”
This is the essence of life: Why? Why am I here? Why do I believe what I believe? Why am I living this way?
The Death of Wonder
Most people are asleep. They live like robots — repeating what they have been told, never wondering why. Religion, politics, and culture all offer answers ready-made. They tell you what to believe, what to do, what is right and wrong. And if you dare to ask “why?”, you are labelled difficult, rebellious, or naive.
But to truly live is to question everything. Don’t accept anything at face value — not even what I say! Truth is not something given to you; it’s something you must discover for yourself. Your why is your journey. The moment you stop asking why, your life becomes stagnant. You become a prisoner of borrowed answers.
The Courage to Question
To question is to take a risk. Why? Because the answers might not be what you want to hear. They might tear apart everything you thought was true — your relationships, your beliefs, your identity. It’s not easy. It takes courage to stand alone, to let go of certainty, and to face the unknown.
But the word “why” is powerful. It burns through illusions. You might discover that what you thought was love is really dependency, or that success, as society defines it, is just a fancy word for slavery. When you ask “why?”, you stop living on autopilot. You stop living the life others planned for you. You start carving your own path.
But don’t stop with one answer. Every answer carries another question within it. This is the beauty of life: there are no final conclusions. Life is not a problem to solve; it’s a mystery to experience.
Questioning and Silence
Question everything until the questions themselves disappear. The wisest people — Buddha, Lao Tzu, Jesus — did not find answers; they found silence. When you question deeply enough, the mind falls quiet. The questions dissolve. And in that silence, you realise the truth: there is no final answer — there is only life, here and now.
True questioning is not just intellectual; it’s existential. It brings you to your very core. All the beliefs you borrowed from others fall away, and you are left with nothing but yourself — raw, real, and alive.
Live Your Why
To question is to wake up. To wake up is to truly live. Don’t be afraid to sound foolish or to stand alone. Remember, every great discovery began with a question: Why? What if? Why not?
Let your life be a question, not a conclusion. When you leave this world, don’t leave it with borrowed beliefs. Leave it empty, knowing you questioned, you explored, and you truly lived.
So, the next time your child asks you “why?”, pause for a moment. Don’t rush to silence them. Instead, ask yourself: Why have I stopped asking?
As the graffiti reminds you — “Why?” — let it be more than a question. Let it be your meditation.