Babies with a bag

I have this image that when we were born, all the babies were gathered in a beautiful place, before going down on Earth. And so it happens that each baby received a bag of questions.

Some have gone through life without ever opening it.

Others have chosen a totally different path, when being lead by curiosity and restlessness they opened the bag to see what rests inside. They carefully removed the first question, fearful, but excited in the same time and began their journey to the unknown with the question that would be in their bag forever: what is the meaning of my life? From then on, questions have always been part of their lives, questions have multiplied, the answers they found satisfied their thirst for a while, questions changed in time, answers fed mind and soul. They were a life companion.

These questions would come out of the bag unexpectedly, stubborn, demanding the right to settle in our minds, to become an inviting flower from an unsettling seed.  Sometimes people would hide from the questions, or, on the contrary, dig in their bag till their elbow for them, catch them while still wriggling with novelty.

It did not matter if people were happy, sad, alone or surrounded by others, healthy or sick, questions would rise to the surface every time they opened their heart to receive them. These questions would come out in times of crisis, moments of silence, in moments of genuine joy or in times of profound pain. Some questions were ignored or set aside, for the fear of an unwanted response, rejected by a life on the run, but once the bag was opened, they persisted.

I chose to open that bag.

You?