What If…

The Surprising Power of Asking Questions Without Needing Answers
What if the sky were orange? What if we discovered a simple solution to coral bleaching? What if everyone in the world could enjoy a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie?
What if world peace were possible? What if you spent a summer exploring Italy, discovered an entirely new passion, or experienced something wonderful you haven't even imagined yet?
And what if something as simple as changing the questions we ask ourselves could change the way we experience life?
Two little words. What if…
They seem almost too simple to be significant. But I've come to appreciate how powerful they can be, especially when we give ourselves permission to explore possibility without needing answers.
What if we made dreaming a regular practice, one that requires no special equipment, extensive preparation, or even knowing what we want to accomplish?
What Happens When We Stop Needing Answers?
Think about how much of our daily thinking goes into solving problems, making decisions, and figuring out how to get things done. We live in a world that values efficiency, productivity, and practical results. We're accustomed to asking questions with the expectation that we can answer them, and that expectation can shape the questions we're willing to ask in the first place.
Imagine taking a year to travel around the world. Almost immediately, your mind might begin calculating the cost, considering your responsibilities, or wondering how you could possibly make it happen. Before you've even enjoyed the possibility, you've begun evaluating its practicality.
But what if, for a designated period of time, your only responsibility was to ask questions? Not answer them, evaluate them, or plan for them. Just ask.
When we remove the responsibility of finding answers, we create room for questions we might never otherwise allow ourselves to ask. We can explore possibilities without knowing whether they're practical, probable, or even particularly important.
No self-editing. Just curiosity.
Rediscovering Our Capacity To Dream
Think about young children and the extraordinary freedom with which they imagine. They can become explorers, astronauts, artists, or adventurers without first considering their qualifications or calculating the probability of success.
This has a fascinating biological dimension. During early childhood, our brains develop in extraordinary ways. As we learn to navigate the world, neural connections form, strengthen, and refine. EEG research shows that young children's brainwave activity differs substantially from adults', including greater relative activity in slower-frequency bands such as theta, which is associated with learning and memory.
At the same time, the prefrontal cortex, involved in planning, judgment, and cognitive control, is still developing. Young children's brains are also highly plastic, meaning that experiences play an important role in shaping neural connections. Through observation, relationships, language, and repeated experiences, children begin developing beliefs and expectations about themselves and the world long before their analytical abilities have fully matured.
As adults, our analytical abilities become increasingly sophisticated. We learn to evaluate information, anticipate consequences, and distinguish between what's possible, probable, and practical. These are enormously valuable capacities, but there's an interesting trade-off: The more practiced we become at evaluating possibilities, the more readily we may begin editing them before we've allowed ourselves to explore.
Somewhere along the way, we can lose touch with the freedom to dream without immediately needing to know how. We can reclaim that capacity, not by abandoning critical thinking, but by recognizing that imagination and analysis don't always need to happen simultaneously.
The Science of Imagining Possibility?
Our capacity to imagine experiences that haven't happened yet is one of the remarkable features of the human mind. Neuroscientists study this ability through a process called prospection, in which our brains draw upon memories, emotions, and knowledge to construct possible futures.
Think about what happens when you become absorbed in a movie. Your heart races during an exciting scene, you feel sadness when a character experiences loss, or you smile with delight at an unexpected reunion. You know intellectually that you're watching a story, yet your body responds emotionally to what you're experiencing.
Research on mental imagery offers another fascinating perspective. Imagining an experience can engage some of the same neural processes involved in perception and action. This is one reason mental rehearsal has attracted considerable interest in sports, performance, and rehabilitation.
And then there's the intriguing research on mirror neurons and action observation. Studies have found overlapping activity in certain brain regions when we perform actions and when we observe others performing similar actions. Simply watching an accomplished dancer or musician can engage neural systems associated with movement.
Our experiences aren't limited to what we're physically doing in the present moment. What we imagine and observe also engages our brains and bodies.
And that opens another fascinating question: What happens when the possibilities we imagine begin influencing what we believe?
When Thinking Becomes Believing
Consider the progression:
What if… → I think… → I believe…
Each represents a different relationship with possibility. The first opens a question. The second begins entertaining an idea. The third expresses a conviction that can influence how we perceive ourselves and the opportunities around us.
Many of our beliefs begin forming during childhood through conditioning, observation, relationships, and repeated experiences. But belief formation doesn't end there. Our brains learn and adapt throughout life, and repeated thoughts, experiences, and emotional associations can reinforce existing beliefs or help develop new ones.
Emotion plays an important role in this process. Research on emotion and memory demonstrates that emotionally meaningful experiences influence learning, memory, and the associations we form. Our thoughts and feelings also trigger physiological responses that affect breathing, heart rate, and activity in our autonomic nervous system. Research on heart-rate variability and regulated breathing offers another fascinating perspective on the relationship between our emotional and physical states.
When possibilities become emotionally meaningful, we're engaging more than our conscious reasoning. Our bodies participate in the experience.
Our beliefs can also influence what we notice. Have you ever become interested in a particular kind of car and suddenly started seeing it everywhere? The cars haven't necessarily become more common. Your attention has changed.
Similarly, as possibilities become increasingly meaningful to us, we may begin noticing ideas, conversations, opportunities, and connections that previously passed unnoticed. What we're available to notice has changed, and that can influence the choices we make.
From Possibility to Inspired Activities
Within JMM, I often explore a progression that begins with a simple question:
What if… → I think… → I believe… → I am inspired to…
This isn't a rigid formula or a timetable for achieving a particular outcome. It's a way of understanding how our relationship with possibility can evolve.
We begin by allowing ourselves to imagine. Over time, something that once seemed distant may become an idea we're genuinely willing to entertain. As our thinking becomes increasingly connected to emotion, experience, and belief, something wonderful can happen.
We begin making new choices that align with our expanded beliefs, and as a result, we begin living our lives differently.
Perhaps we reach out to someone, explore an unfamiliar place, learn something new, or say yes to an experience we might previously have overlooked. Not because we've developed an elaborate strategy or forced ourselves to take the next step, but because we're inspired.
Inspiration arises from within. Inspired activities become expressions of the possibilities we've begun to embrace. And sometimes, we don't recognize their significance until much later, when we look back and discover how one seemingly ordinary experience opened the door to another.
That's one of the things I love most about Living in Possibility. We don't have to figure out the entire journey before we begin experiencing it.
The Surprising Power of Simplicity and Repetition
We often associate meaningful change with significant effort, complicated strategies, or extraordinary commitments. If something seems too simple, we may assume it can't possibly make much difference.
But simple doesn't mean insignificant.
Consider how many meaningful aspects of our lives develop through repeated experiences. We learn a language by using it. We develop relationships by spending time together. We become more skilled at an activity by practicing it. And we can become more practiced at making room for possibility by deliberately giving ourselves opportunities to imagine.
The value isn't necessarily in asking increasingly sophisticated questions or producing extraordinary ideas. It's in showing up, again and again.
Another fascinating dimension of this practice is self-awareness. When we regularly explore our thoughts without immediately evaluating them, we may begin noticing patterns. Perhaps certain subjects repeatedly capture our curiosity, or we're drawn to experiences, relationships, and ideas we haven't consciously considered important.
We may discover interests, values, or dreams that have been quietly waiting for our attention. In a sense, we're creating space to discover more of what's already within us.
We're not trying to optimize our imagination. We're reclaiming our freedom to use it.
Give It a Try! Seven Days of What If…
I'd love to invite you to experience this for yourself.
For the next seven days, set aside 15 minutes each day for a simple experiment. During those 15 minutes, your only activity is to ask questions that begin with “What if…”
That's it!
I encourage you to capture your questions in a notebook, on your phone, tablet, or wherever you enjoy writing. Don't worry about organizing them or making them sound particularly thoughtful. Just let them flow.
They can be about absolutely anything: your life, the world, something you've always wondered about, or something that simply makes you smile. Make your questions big. Make them playful. Make them outrageous. Stretch your imagination and have fun!
What if we could communicate with dolphins? What if everyone had access to beautiful natural spaces? What if the solutions to some of our greatest challenges were simpler than we imagined?
There's no correct subject, no ideal number of questions, and no requirement that your questions be clever, profound, or even realistic.
And there's one important parameter: Don't answer your questions.
If you find yourself wondering how something might happen, gently return to asking “What if…” You don't need to evaluate whether a possibility is realistic, develop a plan, or commit to pursuing anything you imagine. For these 15 minutes, your only responsibility is to give yourself permission to dream.
As the days unfold, you'll have a wonderful opportunity to revisit your questions. You may begin noticing recurring themes, unexpected interests, or possibilities that capture your imagination in ways you hadn't anticipated.
Perhaps you'll discover something about yourself you hadn't previously recognized, begin seeing familiar things from a different perspective, or simply rediscover how much fun it can be to dream.
You don't need to make anything happen. Just keep showing up.
What If This Is Only the Beginning?
One of the most beautiful things about possibility is that we never know exactly where it might lead. A question may remain a question. It may spark a conversation, awaken a forgotten interest, or introduce us to a dream we didn't realize we had.
And sometimes, a possibility we once entertained simply because it delighted us becomes part of the life we're actually living.
That's what makes this practice so meaningful to me. It's not about creating another task to accomplish or another standard to measure ourselves against. It's about making room for something that deserves a place in our lives: our capacity to dream.
We spend so much of our time figuring out how to do things. What if we gave ourselves a little more time to imagine what we might love to experience?
What if we became more curious about our own possibilities? What if we discovered that the lives we're dreaming of are closer than we think?
And what if the simple practice of asking questions, without requiring answers, opened a doorway to experiences we haven't yet imagined?
There's only one way to begin exploring.
What if…
Jeneen Masih writes about the human foundations of meaningful lives, offering accessible insights for sophisticated thinkers.







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