A traveler is crossing a long, narrow rope bridge stretched between two cliffs.
A strong wind sways the bridge with every step.
Each step requires focus. There’s no room for distraction.
Halfway through, a thought pops into his head:
I wonder when this bridge was built? By who? When?
Reasonable questions. They might even be interesting.
But right then, they’re dangerous.
The traveler is exposed—mid-task, committed to a path.
Pondering these questions risks everything. Momentum vanishes.
He may not make it.
This is how many good ideas fall apart.
Not from lack of intelligence, but from interruption by questions that arrive too early.
There’s a common belief that asking why signals depth.
But in practice, it often derails clarity instead of creating it.
It shows up mid-process and pulls attention sideways.
Here’s a more familiar version of the same thing:
Someone is trying to understand how fractions work.
¾ means “three out of four parts”—the concept is just starting to click.
A pizza is imagined, divided into slices.
Then the detour appears:
Why were fractions invented? Who came up with this system? What did ancient civilizations use?
All interesting questions.
But now the search leads to Babylonians and Egyptian number systems.
Meanwhile, the odds of accomplishing the original goal—how to add ½ and ⅓—have decreased dramatically.
The clear train of thought gets overtaken.
The mind was learning. Now it’s wandering.
That’s the risk: why can become a mental detour.
A break in rhythm. A loss of thread.
Sometimes the strongest move is to keep going.
Let the idea unfold. Let the sentence complete itself.
Questions can wait.
And here’s the twist:
The questions that derail the process are often good ones.
They might be exactly the clues needed to steer thought in a better direction—just not yet.
They don’t need to be solved or answered immediately.
Write them down. Hold onto them. Come back later—after the task is done.
Whether the work is physical or mental, the rule holds: stay on track now. Explore tangents after.




Good advice. Is the answer 5/6ths? I did it in my head. That must mean according to AARP that I don’t have dementia.