Estimated read time: 3 min. for the story; 6 min. including the reflection.
In the town where you live there is a boy.
You don’t know him, but you would recognize him.
Think of all the things you admire most in another person and he had them. The people you’re thinking of all have one or two traits that impress you, or perhaps inspire envy. You might admire their intelligence, or their honor. Maybe you appreciate their inner beauty, or outer. This boy has everything you could possibly admire in another person.
Whenever the boy went for a walk around your town people would marvel at him and say to themselves “There goes a boy who has endless potential. He could do anything he wanted.”
The girls hoped he would want to marry them.
The farmers hoped he would want to work for them.
The judges hoped he would want to argue for them.
Everywhere the boy went, he found people believing in him and hoping in him.
He was terribly sad.
This boy was bright, as you can imagine. The brightest, in fact. Seeing he was sad he asked himself why.
“I am sad because I have the power to do whatever I want; everyone believes I can do whatever I want; but I do not know what I want. Whatever I choose, I will do exceedingly well, but until I choose, my talents go to waste.”
It is a pitiable thing, not to know what you want. He was skilled in all things except the power of choice.
Now this boy was bright, the brightest boy you can imagine, and so he knew what to do. Straightaway he set out walking and came to the cave of the Oracle on the far side of the town.
The cave was dark, and one had to bow their head to enter.
Inside the boy could see nothing, but heard a voice say “I AM THE ONE WHO ANSWERS THE QUESTION YOU KNOW HOW TO ASK.”
“What do I want?” The boy asked, confident that he had asked his question correctly.
“THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION.” The Oracle responded.
Disappointed, the boy returned home, for as you know, the Oracle will only let you ask one question a day.
The boy returned the next day, having thought about his real question. He bowed his head to enter the cave and the voice said, “I AM THE ONE WHO ANSWERS THE QUESTION YOU KNOW HOW TO ASK.”
“What is my heart’s deepest desire?” the boy asked.
“THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION.” The Oracle responded.
The next couple of days, the boy kept returning and asked many questions:
“What is my purpose?”
“What should I do with my life?”
“What will make me happy?”
“How do I fill my potential?”
“How do I be who everyone knows me to be?”
“What should I do with my life?”
“What is the question I should ask?”
And every time he asked, the Oracle replied, “THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION.”
Dawn after dawn the boy would awake. Morning after morning he would walk through the town, past the girls who slowly stopped hoping they’d catch his eye; past the farmers who began to sigh; past the judges with ever higher chins.
Day after day he’d sit outside the Cave of the Oracle, wording his question carefully until he was confident in his asking.
Time after time, “THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION.”
Evening after evening he would ponder and pace, reflecting on what he could ask and thereby determine how to spend his talents. Year after year, he’d fall asleep alone, eager for morning to come so that he could get his next chance to find out his question and answer, and then truly begin his life.
End.
There are certain people out there who have known what they’ve wanted since they were a little kid. Those people are enviable and I know I’m not alone in the sentiment.
I recommend you stop reading here. Stories are more powerful when the author doesn’t weigh-in on them.
Hopefully this story speaks to you. If it does, it’s probably for something I didn’t intend to be there, since meaning is often made at the intersection of the reader’s imagination and the writer’s words. Once I start sharing my mind, it might ruin what you liked by making the profound accidental. This all could have been an essay the whole time, but it was a story for a reason.
But if you’d like to continue…
Reflection
This fairy tale was partly inspired by my own job search. It hits upon an experience I have found common in a lot of people: the desire to know what to reach for that would make life meaningful.
There are certain people out there who have known what they’ve wanted since they were a little kid. Those people are enviable and I know I’m not alone in the sentiment.
I once told this story after a rehearsal dinner at a wedding (I’m a blast at parties) and the listener grew upset at the Oracle’s lack of an answer. The story I told him ended differently, with the boy actually asking correctly, being told the answer, and going home, but with all of the dialogue unknown to the listener. It fostered a growing sense in the listener of the emotion and desire that drove the boy in the first place: the idea that if one could ask the right question then a real answer would be given.
I’ve had three different endings written for this Fairy Tale:
The first being what made the final cut; the second ending being what the listener at the wedding heard; and the last one being a version where the boy questions his own aptitude, whereby the Oracle instills humility into him (One has to bow their head to enter the cave.) Having been put in his place, the boy walks away without his original question answered, but is immensely pleased.
The obvious difficulty in writing a story about asking questions is that there is an imposition on the author to provide an answer. There are three ways to go about doing so: by providing a universal answer, which is near impossible; by providing a character-specific answer, which is satisfying to some and irksome to the rest; or by refusing to answer and hoping it’s deep, which is the route I chose.
Regardless, my hesitance to answer, along with the listener’s anger at not hearing the answer speaks to why this story has power: we all have questions and all want answers. Usually the answer we want the most is to the question we don’t know how to ask. If we could just phrase it correctly, maybe that would solve everything.
Usually the answer we want the most is to the question we don’t know how to ask.
It’s an enduring feeling, seen as far back as the stories of the Fisher King and the Holy Grail, where all might have been made well if Sir Percival had just asked the right question. Maybe the feeling goes back even farther.
You might sense it in your own life.
Why can’t I get a mystical vision; an Oracle; or a wise sage to just tell me what I really want? Can’t I just walk into the cave from Star Wars and see my destiny, or sit under a magical hat that reveals me to myself and groups me with like-minded individuals, then proceed from there? Why doesn’t it work that way?
I have asked a lot of questions considering my future career and it sometimes feels like the answers haven’t been what I was hoping for when I asked. Maybe you can relate, or you have a different question that you’re burning to have answered.
What would you ask the Oracle if you could ask a question?
Would it be the right question? Do you know how to ask it?