The Art of Questioning II
Part 2 - The Engine
“Questioning can also act, and it should do so, as an effective engine for change.”
At this point, your questions stop being passive.
Your rhythms start to shift. You don’t laugh at the same jokes. You want to stop saying yes when you mean no. You want to stop apologising for your doubt.
That’s when perhaps when we start to feel it getting real, really seeping through.
Because questioning doesn’t just think—it moves. It interrupts. Rearranges. It forces choices. Sometimes gentle ones, like the decision to walk instead of scroll. Other times, brutal ones: endings, breakups, exits, silence.
It’s easy to romanticise questioning as some abstract enlightenment exercise. But real questioning is risky. It has consequences. It cracks foundations. It threatens comfort—yours and others’. You might lose things. You will probably lose people.
But the real danger is in remaining passive, in not questioning.
To keep swallowing what doesn’t sit right. To keep orbiting what no longer nourishes you. To stay still when everything in you wants to move.
Change isn’t always loud. It isn’t always brave. But it begins the moment a question gets teeth. And once it bites, you can’t go back. It doesn’t last even if you do.
That’s what makes questioning powerful.
Not just because it reveals, but because it disturbs.
Not just because it sees, but because it rejects.
So if things are falling apart around you, don’t panic. You’re not failing. You’re shifting. The engine’s starting up. Its coming into being.
Thank you for reading. I hope you found it enjoyable.