I’m thinking about getting back into an old relationship.
One that took too much time. Brought on too many tears. One I decided I needed to leave.
I’m talking about my relationship with the question, “Why?”
Perhaps, you’ve been overly involved with “Why?” as well, Dear Reader?
“Why?” usually extended its beckoning finger at those times when life hasn’t turned out the way I wanted it to.
The way I was so sure it should.
Why didn’t the guy I love pick me? Why don’t I have a baby? Why didn’t I get that job?
Ah, yes. The job.
I know the exact moment I decided to break up with “Why?”
It was the day my CNN boss told me the network wouldn’t be renewing my contract after 12 successful years together.
“Why did they decide to let you go?” so many have asked in the years since.
“I never asked,” I answer truthfully.
“Why ask, ‘Why?’” I figured.
I knew Boss wouldn’t give me an honest answer, depending instead on a souless Human Resources script meant to avoid any kind of lawsuit.
The bottom line — they didn’t want me to work there anymore.
“Why” and I were done.
Until now.
Until a recent news story.
The one about the police officer in a South Carolina high school dragging a girl from her desk when she refused to leave a classroom.
The teacher said the girl had been a distraction, not following the rules.
About a week later, another story comes out that the girl had recently been put in foster care.
If ever there was a kid who needed someone to ask, “Why?”
Just one person asking “Why are you hurting?” could’ve changed everything.
The police officer was slammed in the media and ultimately fired.
“Good riddance,” I expected the students at that school to say.
That is, until hundreds of kids staged a walk out in support of the officer, demanding that he get his job back. “Why would they do that?” I find myself wondering.
“He’s great! He’s so helpful! This isn’t typical!” they shouted as they marched out.
And so, “Why?” beckons me closer again.
Offering to be helpful with something I’m working on.
Compassion.
For this, I’m going to need some new ground rules.
I can ask “Why?” to understand someone else’s story.
To appreciate someone else’s pain.
But when it comes to my own life, there will be no asking “Why?”
I’m know at the time I’m kicking and screaming at fate, I’m not ready to hear the answer.
“He didn’t pick you, because, actually he’s a jerk, is going to make a terrible husband. A billion times better guy is on his way to you, along with kids to raise, and a new career.”
The answer is simply, “You are meant for something else. For someone else.”
Is it possible your own perspective on “Why?” changed over the years?
Please drop me a line and explain, yeah, you know, “Why?” (Email: Daryn@darynkagan.com.)
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