When the Ground Trembles: Learning to Ask How Instead of Why

There are so many aspects of life and the world that are constantly moving. At times, more often than not, they feel shaky. The ground beneath our feet trembles, and uncertainty becomes a familiar companion in our daily lives.

Many of these inner earthquakes are deeply personal. Shifts and changes arrive unexpectedly, sometimes leaving me dizzy, sometimes longing for quieter, more peaceful times. I notice how easily nostalgia sneaks in, how the past can appear softer, kinder, more serene than it truly was. Even when it wasn’t.

What fascinates me is how the mind protects itself. We can trick ourselves into believing that the past was better, not because it was, but because for a brief moment it offers escape from the discomfort of the present.

Life, Uncertainty, and the Illusion of Stable Ground

When life feels overwhelming, the mind reaches for safety. Memory becomes selective. We edit out the sharp edges and keep the warmth. This nostalgia isn’t weakness, it is a coping mechanism, a pause button on pain.

Yet staying there too long keeps us from meeting the present as it is.

Recently, I had a deeply inspiring conversation with a close friend who has lived in Asia for many years. Knowing that she is spiritual, as I am, I asked her a question I sometimes ask myself during difficult times: Why do certain challenges arise? Why do specific events happen?

Her answer surprised me. She explained that in the culture where she lives, “why” is rarely the question. Instead, the focus is on "how".

Not why did this happen to me? But how do I live with this? How do I integrate it? How do I move forward with it?

She spoke about integrating every aspect of life into a greater whole, the pain, grief and love, loss and growth, parenting challenges, work struggles, life transitions.

In this way of thinking, nothing is excluded.

Pain is not something to eliminate but something to understand.

Living the Question of How

That conversation stayed with me.

I realized that perhaps healing doesn’t come from asking why, but from exploring: What am I learning right now? What patterns are no longer serving me? What needs to be released, dismantled, or reimagined? What is trying to be born through this discomfort?

Sometimes clarity comes through understanding.
Sometimes it comes through feeling.
And sometimes, it arrives only as a subtle inner knowing, quiet, intuitive, and wordless.

There are moments when we won’t find clear answers. In those moments, following the inner compass, the body, the heart, the subtle signals within, can be enough.

We don’t always need to know why something is falling apart. Sometimes it is enough to trust that what is being dismantled is making space for something more honest, more aligned, more alive.

Life will continue to move. The ground may tremble again.

But perhaps peace doesn’t come from stopping the shaking.
Perhaps it comes from learning how to stand within it.

How Is Not Acceptance of Harm

Choosing how over why does not mean staying in abusive relationships, tolerating violence, or accepting injustice. It does not mean spiritual bypassing, silence, or endurance at any cost.

Harm is harm.

Abuse is never a lesson to be endured. Violence is not something to integrate—it is something to stop.

Asking how is not about minimizing suffering or excusing wrongdoing. It is about regaining agency when something harmful has already occurred. How shifts the focus forward and inward, without denying reality: How do I protect myself now? How do I reclaim my voice, boundaries, and dignity? How do I access support, resources, and community? How do I contribute to change—personally or collectively?

In this way, how becomes a tool for movement, not resignation.

It helps us locate resources: inner strength, external support, legal protection, solidarity, therapy, activism. It helps us make choices that restore safety and autonomy.

It helps shift pain into informed action.