How do you know when thinking about a question has stopped being useful?

Thinking remains useful while it changes the question, adds evidence or opens
an action. You can check the bulb, test another socket and notice whether the
rest of the house has power. Each step gives the next thought something new to
work with.

The second question may lead to an honest observation: you care about how your
choices affect people. It may reveal a conversation you owe someone today.
After that, another hour of imagining every future opinion adds no evidence.
The question asks for access to minds and years you cannot inspect.

This gives a simple test. After another round of thought, ask:

• Did I notice a fact I had missed?
• Did the question become more exact?
• Is there a choice I can now make?

If the answer is yes, continue for as long as the inquiry serves the life
around it. If each pass returns the same scenes and the same demand for
certainty, thinking may have become repetition wearing the clothes of work.

Leaving a question open is not the same as declaring it meaningless. Some
mysteries shape a life precisely because they remain larger than one answer.
They can invite wonder, humility, art or conversation. They become heavy when
living is postponed until they are solved.

Some questions deserve lifelong company without full-time occupation. You can
leave one honestly open and still give your attention to the next real thing
that asks for you.