Seeking the Right Questions

I was thinking today about the past, about the house, the lane with bramble bushes hiding things that made noise in the grass, the lights, the opening doors. All of it. I was wondering what did it all mean and will I ever have the answers? Then it dawned on me that maybe I really shouldn't be seeking answers, perhaps I should be seeking the right questions to ask. After all, aren't questions what define our knowledge base.

Bear with me while I ramble on a bit about this because it's just an newly born idea. One I haven't had a lot of time to ponder.

So let's say instead of asking what was lurking behind the bramble bushes? and where did it come from? perhaps the question should be What was the thing behind the bramble bushes here for?

What it was and where it came from will probably never be known. What was it here for?   It lurked there several times just out of sight. Moving with a person as they walked the lonely lane, giving the impression that it might pounce at any time. Yet it NEVER did. Was it because we were swift and fearful or was it because it's purpose never was to pounce?  Or was it perhaps that the other oddities on the farm kept us safe?  Was it about us at all or some hidden agenda between forces that we could never define or control?

I've written before that perhaps it wasn't "supernatural" at all but perhaps a blurring of two realities. Or a place where the veils between two worlds thinned and bled into each other at times. I do admit though that the thing behind the bramble bushes struck fear in my heart where many of the other things never did. And so that brings up another question: Why? It didn't happen "inside" the house whereas many other things did. You would think those would be more worrisome, inside a home where I slept.

All of these are good questions to ponder. And what if we had dared to jump boldly through the bushes to confront the thing on the other side? What would have happened then? Perhaps after all these years, the thing on the other side of the bushes was a missed opportunity.