Lots and Lots of Questions: a collective list

Is this a question? How did I get to this age without knowing the name of that early morning bird who performs for me so beautifully? What is your idea of a perfect day? Who do you want to be when you grow up? Why do live performances always make me cry? What is your favorite book? What book are you reading now? What is the last thing you said to the last person you saw today? Are you happy about the last thing you said to the last person you spoke with? What is holding you back? What is moving you forward? What if everything is exactly as it is supposed to be right this very moment? What if you told someone exactly how you feel? Is there something you need to do right now?

Will the sapsucker return to the hole it started making in the aspen tree right outside the kitchen window? Is the wren sitting on eggs yet? Do you see the hole in that old post leaning on the side of barn? Did the chickadee go in there? How many eggs are in the dove’s nest? Will we get a barn swallow in our new barn? Do you remember the robin’s nest in the tractor wheel? How does that robin make such a turquoise blue egg? Was it last year we kept hearing the cheeping of baby birds in your greenhouse and could not find where they were? Will the oriole find a mate? What makes you visible to yourself? Will I ever live at the ocean again? Will my new jade plant recover from sunburn? Will I continue to count my steps in the future? What happened to curiosity?When will people stop rushing? When will people stop adoring their material objects? Will clouds become ice cream in heaven?

Why do I cry every time I see an elephant in the movies, on TV, in a zoo, in photographs, in dreams, and even when I think about them? Do all animals dream? What animal will become extinct next? Why do I hate the sound of lawn mowers and leaf blowers so much, when I don't mind the sound of tractors? Do other people love laughing so hard that it is hard to breathe, the way I do? How long will planet Earth exist? Why do we say “as the crow flies” and not “as the bluebird flies”? Why do I lose brain cells and not fat cells as I age? Why do we waste technology on building weapons when I need a housecleaning robot? Why does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich taste so good after four hours on a hiking trail? “Why,” my mother asks, “do I keep losing friends when I am only telling people the truth about their bad traits”? Why didn’t I keep my poodle skirt from the 1950s? Why do my matzo balls turn out like lead when my grandmother’s were so light and fluffy? Why are some people funnier than others?  Why am I only funny when I don’t put much effort into it?

Do you remember the day we met? Was it raining? What was I thinking? Did I talk too much? What was the name of that Mexican restaurant, remember, the one with the funny names for all the dishes? Wasn’t it hot for May? Were you wearing those sandals with the faded black straps? Did we touch? How did you know? Was it my eyes or my hair? Can you still hear the sound of the water burbling in the creek and the wind swishing the pines? Did I make you laugh? What did we find to talk about in the car? Do you think we could see the future, like a reflection in a blurry photograph?

Where will I be when I die? How many stars can you see in the nighttime sky? Whatever happened to my college friend, Maggie, who used to make me strong, sweet espresso and black beans and rice? Is there a chance I might climb Mt. Everest? Does my birthmother ever think of me? Why do I never consider my birthfather?  Can you ever have enough hugs? Can making art calm my restless mind? Will the scent of lilacs stay in my nose until fall? How can I do more to fight racism, homophobia, and all forms of hate? Can a positive outlook truly heal the body? Is it possible to memorize all the words of every Cole Porter song ever written? Is red wine truly good for the heart? Have I missed this season’s harvesting of ramps? In what ways will I be a better person in the year ahead? Will anybody notice? Will the Great Blue Heron return to our creek soon?  Is there a chance for a late-in-life growth spurt? How many shades of blue can I see? Is there life after death — and if I get to choose, can heaven have a dance party? My mother puts her exceedingly-cold hand in mine, and asks, “Have I died but forgotten to lie down?”

What is the sound of a falling star? Do spiders think while they’re spinning? Do ants need a map after they run through the grass? Why is a mosquito? How does a cabbage feel when it is being boiled? Why did the smoke alarm go off at 4:16 a.m.? What do I learn by simply breathing? When will my hair turn white? Will evolution ever end? May I live in a castle in Scotland, please? Would you mind telling me how that tree got to be so tall? Will I finish what I started? Am I who I think I am? Are the roots of the trees under the park more beautiful than the park above ground? Why does time seem to go so fast? Will I ever catch up with myself? Do trees still grow in Brooklyn? Which crow in the murder is designated as the lookout? Can robots be programmed to iron shirts? How can I reach the “catbird seat”?

How did my mother play the piano so effortlessly? What compels my dog to eat bees? How do I forgive myself? Why can't I sleep? Why do I eat things I don't like? Why do I worry about almost everything, like my mother did? What  makes ants come into the house when it's so nice outside? Why did it take so long to become friends with myself? Why did it take me so long to move away from the people who weren't kind to me? Why does connectivity consume so much time? Why are public bathrooms so much more expensive in Colombia than in Ecuador? Why do brown pelicans always fly north along the Pacific coast? Why do I continue to hope when despair is so easy? Why do intense experiences come in threes? When I read through my old journals, why am I always so surprised and embarrassed by the me that was? Why don’t I ever recognize my own recorded voice? Do we really shed our skins, like snakes, every 7 years? Why is it easier to talk with strangers than with friends about deeply personal  experiences?

Where are the rabbits this spring? What other garden have they chosen for their young? Why did the thyme winter over so poorly? How did the parsley persevere? Why have only four branches of sage come through? When did the wild rose lose hope? Why is there no nest in the corner eave of the porch? When did the old lilacs fall? What will I sow and nurture? Where will I put my work? Who sees what I see, and who doesn’t? What would it feel like, in my body, to be a man instead of a woman? Where does that white fluffy stuff, like polyester pillow stuffing, that is always scattered around the yard, come from? Is the plum tree that flowered bountifully just weeks ago, and now only has a few sickly leaves, dying? What will it feel like to be my mother’s age? What did she feel like at my age? What did I feel like at my daughter’s age? How will she feel at my age? What did my grandfather think about while, as an old man, he did his yoga shoulder stands next to the lake wearing a saggy navy-blue speedo? Why does my cat so often sit mesmerized by the neighbor’s compost bin?

Why does the end of the month arrive before I’ve come to grips with the beginning of the month? At what point in one’s life is it okay just to be yourself and not worry about your reputation, your worldly accomplishments, or your social status? How many times have I reached for my glasses or my keys or the remote control or my slippers or my favorite pen, only to realize that I have not left that object in its “usual” place? Is there anything as glorious as the cottonwood tree gearing up to make it snow cotton puffs in early June? Isn’t it important to say no to someone who is convinced that they, not you, know exactly what is proper for you to do with your life?

Can I count the number of times I've walked up my front steps? Can I remember how my mother's hands looked when she sat holding a book and read after dinner? Will I ever want to give up paper maps for a GPS system? Will I ever have enough time? What was my first question? Who answered that first question? Was my first question to a person or to the universe? What is dawn for? Do I feel differently as the moon moves through its phases? If I lived near the ocean, would I sense when the tide is high? If I lost my sight, would my fingers be able to tell me when my poppies are ready to open? Can I identify my friends by their breathing? When I meditate, do the thoughts which pass through my mind lay around me like cast-off clothes? Why are poetry books always so slim? Do my books know how much I love them?

Why do some people always print while others write in lovely cursive script? Who imagined the idea of ink so writers would have a way to capture their thoughts? Do I have space in my life for more friends? Will it matter to the earth that I tended my few square feet of garden with love and care? What did people see before the color blue? What lies beyond this life? What does fear have to gain? Where is the love? How does one open the cells to healing? Where does inspiration flow from? Can someone please translate the baby dialects? Is active listening more attuned and compassionate? Is the ability to wait a prerequisite for wisdom? Can we all agree to disagree, in kindness? Is a lie made of caustic acid for both the teller and the told? How many heroes are left in the world? Does bravery mean facing one's fears?

Does anyone have an extra ordinary that they might be willing to share? How many good years are still left for me? Why not celebrate this very moment? When will enough be enough? What will anything matter, a century from now? Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes? What are the birds trying to tell us? Are the angels just waiting to be employed? Does a great hug bring harmonic resonance between huggers? If it's all been said before, isn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery? Does the study and understanding of a little known author make them one of the grateful dead? Are perspiration and perseverance prerequisites to publishing? Where are all the cool kids now? Does everyone's opinion have inherent worth? Is winning the lottery really a viable retirement plan?

Is that concrete? Why is there a pipe there? Did you turn the water on? Do we need so many different types of flower and plant spray? Why do Lily of the Valley flowers make me think of the theme music to The Exorcist? Do you think the dog senses storm ions in the air? Do you think moth balls will keep the groundhog from coming into our yard? Do you want more coffee? Did you water the lettuce? Where is the watering can? Is it a watering can if it is made of plastic? Do you think it will rain enough so that we don't have to water? What if it doesn't  rain? Was there a goddess of rain? Who  is the goddess of gardening? Did you see the Wonder Woman and Batman watering cans at Lowe's? Why did the Batman watering can have arms and a head but the Wonder Woman can only has her initials? Does rain make a sound if there is no one there to hear it? What does it feel like when you skim your hand across the top of water? What does the rain sound like when you are in the car and it's pouring?

Is it possible to forgive in reality, not just in theory? Is anyone else haunted by the song “row row row your boat” — wondering if life really IS but a dream? How certain are you that the “true” stories you tell about your life are really true? What does it take to be a really good friend? Who knows where the time goes? Have you ever been looking for something and you can’t find it and then you walk away for a minute and when you come back and look in exactly the same place there it is, the very object that seemed to be lost? Do you feel unbalanced all day if you wear mis-matched socks, or mis-matched earrings? Do you find it challenging to live in the present moment? Do you have tricks you do that help you fall asleep at night? Do you believe in magic? What were you taught in elementary school that you still remember today? Do trees like to be hugged or do they find it intrusive and presumptuous? How do I know if I’m in denial? Was I born bossy? Whose face will be the last face I see on this earth? Am I too enthusiastic? Which is more important to me: the questions or the answers?



Thank you to all these contributors:

Anne Killian-Russo
Annie Campbell
Annie Wexler
Barbara Cartwright
Beth Browne
Chris McNamara
Elizabeth W. McMahon
Ian M. Shapiro
Jim Mazza
Jo Balistreri
Joan McNerney
Joanna M. Weston
Judith Andrew
Kath Abela Wilson
Louise Vignaux
Marian Rogers
Marty Blue Waters
Mary Jane Richmond
Mimi Foyle
Nancy Osborn
Rob Sullivan
Saskya van Nouhuys
Susan Annah Currie
Zee Zahava