When people ask “why,” they’re often searching for meaning, motive, or explanation. It’s a natural question — but not always a reliable one. In many cases, the why is not a solid truth but an imagined outcome. It’s a story we tell ourselves to give events shape or direction, often after the fact. These imagined outcomes can give us comfort, but they can also mislead us if we’re not careful.
We ask why something happened, why someone left, why we failed, why we succeeded. But most of the time, the real answer is too complex, too hidden, or too dependent on unseen forces for us to truly know. So we fill in the blanks. We create meaning. We tell ourselves, “It must be because I wasn’t good enough,” or “It happened so I could learn a lesson,” or “There’s a bigger reason for all this.” These are imagined outcomes — guesses that feel like truths.
The danger is not in imagining. It’s in forgetting that we’re imagining. When we cling too tightly to a specific why, we limit how we see ourselves and the world. We assume cause and effect where none exists. We blame ourselves unfairly. Or we give too much weight to an interpretation that comforts us, even if it blinds us to reality.
This also applies to the future. When we ask, “Why should I try?” or “Why would this matter?” we are projecting imagined results. We think, “If I do this, then this will happen,” as if life moves in straight lines. But life is far more unpredictable. Our whys often miss the mark. What we expect to happen rarely unfolds exactly that way.
Understanding that whys are imagined outcomes can actually be freeing. It reminds us that we don’t always need a perfect explanation. It’s okay to say, “I don’t know why, but I can choose what to do next.” That shift pulls us out of passive analysis and into active living.
Rather than chasing whys that may never settle, focus on what you can do. Focus on the how — how you respond, how you grow, how you move forward. The need to explain can keep you stuck. The will to act moves you on.
Meaning is not always found. Sometimes, it’s made. And the truth is, we rarely know the real why until much later — if ever. So ask if you must, but remember that every why is just one possible version of the story. What you choose to do next is what defines the ending.
