My mum and dad are both very intelligent people. Not only do they have higher than average IQ, but they are smart, too. Both my parents question EVERYTHING. Sometimes this causes people to view them as obstinant troublemakers (yes, they do mum and dad, you both know it, and to some extent I think you both basque in the warm glow you receive from that knowledge). Neither of my parents take ANYTHING on face value alone.
So, it's probably not very surprising that both my brother and I are questioners. We question everything. We question what we see and hear, and what we don't see and hear. We question the world around us, each other, our parents, and even ourselves.
What is real?
What is worthwhile?
What and who can be trusted?
Why do people do/say/think the things they do?
How, where, what, when, why and who...
Sometimes I question all this questioning though (of course I do, that is what makes me me - all this suspicion!).
Certainly, it seems to me that often my inability to just accept things, events, people, practice, or theories on face value puts me at odds with the world around me. Often I ask what other people consider to be stupid, argumentative, pointless questions. Questions for which EVERYONE already knows the answers and for which I must be labled a bit fruity or difficult (questioning the long term effectiveness and safety of vaccines springs to mind, right about now).
I know my questioning the validity of Feminism as a seperate -Ism to Humanism has set many teeth on edge.
Tonight, I yet again questioned the practices within the education microcosm that is my sons' school - I'm a big questioner of formal education, but even still, I have my children in the school system because I question the wisdom of quarantining children from society because society is deemed sick, when societal norms inform humans' sense of belonging as social creatures so inextricably (and particularly in the light of my children wanting to go to school).
I can't join a side and just be happy to accept the wisdom of that side. I am compelled to question everyone and everything, putting me at odds with everyone and everything at some point. Sometimes I think I'd be happier if I could just stop questioning. Other people who accept (and quite possibly they are correct in doing so, quite possibly - in all my questioning - I'm not seeing the forest for the trees), often seem secure in the knowledge that everything is fine the way it is. They often see no gain in opening cans of worms when the worms are doing no harm whatsoever in their dark, tightly sealed can. They seem to live lives free from anxiety and distrust.
Then again, how could I be happy not being me?
Well, anyway, thanks mum and dad...
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