The question, “How?” looks for the answer outside of
you. It is an indirect expression of your doubts, a defense against action, and
a leap past the question of purpose, past the question of intentions, and past
the drama of responsibility.
You may spend your days engaged in activities that work well for
you and achieve your objectives, and still wonder whether you are making a difference
in the world. When you yield too easily to what is doable, practical, and popular,
you sacrifice the pursuit of what is in your heart. You give in to your doubts,
and settle for what you know how to do, or can soon learn how to do, instead of
pursuing what most matters to you and living with the adventure and anxiety that
this requires.
What Is Worth Doing?
We often avoid the question of whether something is worth doing by
going straight to the question, “How do we do it?” In fact, when we
believe that something is definitely not worth doing, we are eager to start asking,
“How?” As an individual, I can wonder whether I can be myself and
do what I want and still make a living.
When a discussion is dominated by questions of “How?”
we risk overvaluing what is practical and doable and postpone the questions of
collective purpose and well-being. We risk aspiring to goals that are defined
for us by the culture and our institutions, at the expense of pursing purposes
and intentions that arise from within ourselves.
If we could agree that for six months we would not ask, “How?”
something in our lives and culture might shift for the better. We might engage
in conversations about why we do what we do. We would discuss purpose and what
is worth doing. We would refocus our attention on deciding the right question,
rather than the right answer.
It would also force us to act as if we already knew how—we
just have to figure out what is worth doing. It would give priority to aim over
speed. At some point we would either find the right question or grow weary of
its pursuit, and we would be pulled into meaningful action, despite our uncertainty
and our caution about being wrong. It would support us in acting now, rather than
waiting until the timing was right, and the world was ready for us. We might put
aside our wish for safety and instead view our life as a purpose-filled experiment
whose intention is more for learning than for achieving and more for relationship
than for power, speed, or efficiency.
This might elevate the state of not knowing to being an acceptable
condition of our existence rather than a problem to be solved, and we might realize
that real service and contribution come more from the choice of a worthy destination
than from limiting ourselves to engaging in what we know will work.
If we are waiting for more knowledge, more skills, more support from
the world around us, we are waiting too long.
In the face of the struggle to know what matters to us, and to act
on it, we have to be gentle with ourselves. We live in a culture that lavishes
all of its rewards on what works, a culture that seems to value what works more
than it values what matters. I am using the phrase “what works” to
capture our love of practicality and our attraction to what is concrete and measurable.
The phrase “what matters” is shorthand for our capacity to dream,
to reclaim our freedom, to be idealistic, and to give our lives to those things
which are vague, hard to measure, and invisible. Now, you might say that what
actually matters most to you are those things that are measurable, concrete, and
do in fact “work.” I would not argue with you, but would urge you
to explore how focusing too quickly and exclusively on what works can distract
you from your deeper purpose and sense of fully living the life you have in mind.
My wish is that you exchange what you know how to do for what means the most to
you.
When we ask “How?” we are really making a statement:
What we lack is the right tool or methodology. We are mechanics who can’t
find the right wrench. The question “How?” expresses doubt about whether
we know enough and are enough; it affirms the belief that what works is the defining
question—a major source of our identity.
The question declares that you and I are fundamentally about getting
things done. If something has no utility, if it does not work, then we consider
that a limitation. In fact, talk, dreams, reflections, feelings, and other aspects
of who we are as humans are considered lost production.
“How?” should be asked later rather than sooner. We are
at times so eager to get practical right away that we become imprisoned in our
belief that we don’t know how and therefore need to keep asking the question.
Also, in our search for tools, we become what we seek: a tool. We reduce ourselves
to being primarily pragmatic and utilitarian.
Choosing to act on “what matters” is the choice to live
a passionate existence, which is anything but controlled and predictable. By acting
on what matters, we declare we are accountable for the world around us and are
willing to pursue what we define as important, independent of whether it is in
demand, or has market value.
Giving priority to what matters is the path of risk and adventure.
The institutions and culture that surround us are waiting for us to transform
them into a fuller expression of our own desires. We can reclaim and experience
our freedom and put our helplessness behind us. We can experience an intimate
connection with other people and with all we come in contact with, rather than
feeling that we exist in relationships born of barter and instrumentality. We
can also live a life of service and engagement, rather than the primary pursuit
of entitlement and interests that focus on ourselves.
The most common rationalization for doing things we do not believe
in is that what we really desire either takes too long or costs too much.
Yes is the right question. The alternative to asking “How?”
is saying “Yes”—not literally, but as a symbol of our stance
towards the possibility of more meaningful change. If the answers to “How?”
have not fed us, then perhaps we ordered the wrong meal. The right questions are
about values, purpose, aesthetics, human connection, and deeper philosophical
inquiry. To experience the fullness of working and living, we need to be willing
to address questions that we know have no answer. When we ask “How?”
we limit ourselves to questions for which there is likely to be an answer, and
this has major implications for all that we care about.
The goal is to balance a life that works with a life that counts—to
acknowledge that just because something works, it doesn’t mean that it matters.
A life that matters is captured in the word, “yes.” Yes is
the answer—if not the antithesis—to “How?” Yes
expresses our willingness to claim our freedom and use it to discover the meaning
of commitment, which is to say Yes to causes that make no clear offer
of a return, to say Yes when we do not have the mastery, or methodology,
to know how to get where we want to go. Yes affirms the value of participation,
of being a player instead of a spectator to our own experience. Yes affirms the
existence of a destination beyond material gain.
The Yes questions transform your inquiries into a deeper,
more intimate discussion of why you do what you do. They bring you to the larger
question, “How will the world be different tomorrow as a result of what
I do today?” This question brings your purpose into focus. It makes you
choose what matters for yourself. You take a step toward your ideals when you
shift to yes questions that are filled with anxiety and ambiguity—questions
that force you to put yourself on the line. PE
