What have you been thirsty for in your life, how did you quench this craving, and who helped? I was asked these questions at the start of a workshop as an “ice-breaker” exercise, and they have haunted me all day. Of course, I have been thirsty for so many things in my life. And yes, I have, at times, found ways to quench that craving, with and without help. So why do these questions continually echo my heart?
Perhaps because my life has been a journey through existential tide pools, searching and discovering in the changing water levels, spiritual thirst is part of my life journey. I wonder if my soul’s purpose is to question and seek, rather than to find answers. What if I am here to see through the illusion of a life based on healing, finding answers, or manifesting, but to remember that we are here to be curiously engaged in a journey that is simultaneously mystical and mundane.
We live in a world that values answers, especially simple ones that can become trite slogans printed on bumper-stickers. Do we really believe that very complex questions can be solved with a loudly roared rhyme or chant? It is easier to march and scream than it is to sit with questions, to struggle with uncertainty and paradox.
How would our world change if we stopped demanding concrete easy solutions? Would we stop surfing the web for promises of healing, weight loss, wealth, or love? Would we accept that we live in a complex and paradoxical world, and that there is no one path that will satisfy all our desires? Perhaps humans are meant to be thirsty, to have cravings that keep us exploring and adventuring in unique ways. This type of life path gives us permission to change directions based on what we have learned. To experience without needing to succeed. To experiment and reject without guilt.
Rather than demanding peace between countries, we might find peace within ourselves and let that energy radiate into the world. Perhaps we can learn to ask better questions, ones that delve deep into the core of an issue, and free us from the assuredness of our own wisdom. Rather than investing in the latest miracle cure, or joining the trendy protest, assured by the screaming voices around us, we can stay thirsty and create miracle springs of discernment and insight. And discover that wisdom does not come from drinking from the fountain of knowledge, but from a paradoxical journey along streams of wonder.