Imagine

On August 7, 1974 a young Frenchman named Philippe Petit stepped out on a wire illegally rigged between New York's twin towers, then the world's tallest buildings. After nearly an hour of dancing on the wire, he was arrested, taken for psychological evaluation, and brought to jail before he was released.

In a report I heard recently about the incident, the most surprising question asked of Petit (according to him) was: why?

It seems the most important question. But to a Frenchman, apparently, it doesn't come to mind to ask that question about such an event. It's a cultural thing, maybe.

So.

Why not?

I wonder if it is because that question is really difficult, if not impossible, to answer.

We are all traveling in our idea bubble. We have developed them uniquely throughout our life time. How in the world could anyone else process in the course of a conversation or answer to a discussion question what we have processed in real time over the hours of our lifetimes?

You might have been messing around with some tight ropes and watching construction of the world's tallest buildings underway in a place across the world and been struck by a desire to one day do something as of yet unimaginable with tight ropes and those buildings. And you might not even understand why.

Some of the people on their trudge to another day at the plant on August 7, 1974 stopped and watched the man way up there on that wire. And it changed that day for them. And maybe they started looking at their own wires and the world's tall buildings and the air in their idea bubble changed.

Other people might have said. Hum. Why?

A biblical writer might be coming from a place of exile and isolation that we don't understand when writing about an event in the Old Testament. Babies dashed against rocks and brothers stabbing sisters by the thousands over a golden calf.

And we can say: that reminds me of something I know about.

Or we can say: Hum. Why?

Imagine that.