Journal December 2025 Release - Flipbook - Page 110
108
that my self is an archipelago of selves, an ancestral onion, a tree full of grafts.
Where can a meaning transport you?
Are words powerful enough to play with our “realities”?
Wittgenstein wrote:
“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.”
When I learned narrative maps, I became confused.
Was I supposed to memorize questions?
Conjugate them, recite them like formulas?
“Just practice,” they told me.
“Practice until they pass through you.”
Years later, I understood that they weren’t narrow questions in themselves, but
territories from which narrative practices were sustained.
In 2023, while studying with David Epston, Kay Ingamels, and Tom Carlson, new
paradigms entered; the transcripts of clients were analyzed with surgical
precision: each question was intervened until its edges were revealed. I asked
myself:
What does a question want?
What does it do?
Where does it lead?
What does it limit?
What does it make possible?
What ethics does it protect?
Since then, questions pursue me without compassion, not gently, but like restless
animals. Every question can open, half-open, or close worlds. Choosing the weave
of questions with care can carry protagonists, antagonists, collective characters,
round characters, and archetypal ones toward their new—or re-chosen—plots.
My Fascination with Inquiry
Journal of Contemporary Narrative Therapy, December 2025 Release, p. 107-111.
www.journalnft.com
