Kokology questions with answers: nine scenes to try tonight

Kokology questions are short imagined scenes: you are somewhere, something happens, and you say what you see or do. Each answer is then read as a picture of something else, how you see yourself, the people around you, what you want or how you handle trouble. Below are nine scenes written for this page, each with its answer underneath.

Play them in order, answer each one before scrolling down, and only then read what it is said to reveal. They work best spoken aloud with a few friends, where half the fun is hearing everyone else's answer to the same question.

How to play these kokology questions

Give yourself a few seconds per scene and take the first answer that arrives. Write it down if you are on your own; memory has a way of tidying answers after the fact. If you are playing with others, have one person read each scene aloud and let everyone answer before anyone reads the meaning.

If you would like some background first, What is kokology? explains where the method comes from and why it asks about scenes rather than about you.

Scenes about how you see yourself

1. The cube in the desert

You are in a desert and there is a cube in front of you. How big is it, what is it made of, and where does it sit: on the sand, half-buried or floating?

What it reveals: the cube is how you see yourself. Size is read as how much room you take up, the material as how open or guarded you are (glass versus stone, say), and its position as how grounded you feel. This is the opening of a longer game; the full version, with a ladder, a horse, flowers and a storm, is in the cube test explained, and you can play it step by step at the cube test tool.

2. The room with one window

You wake in a plain room with a single window. What do you see through it: a city, a field, the sea, or only a wall a few feet away? And do you open the window?

What it reveals: the view is read as how you picture the life that lies ahead of you just now, wide or close, busy or quiet. Opening the window is read as readiness to let that life in; leaving it shut is read as a preference for watching a while longer before you commit.

Scenes about the people around you

3. The walk in the forest

You set out on a walk through a forest. Who is walking with you?

What it reveals: the companion is read as the person who matters most to you right now, which is not always the person you would name if asked directly. Walking alone is a legitimate answer. This is the first stop of a seven-part game; the rest of the walk is in the forest test explained and at the forest test tool.

4. A letter that is not yours

A letter is pushed under your door. It is addressed to a stranger who must have lived there before you. Do you open it, return it unopened, forward it, or leave it on the side and forget it?

What it reveals: the letter is read as how you handle other people's private lives when they drift into yours. Opening it suggests curiosity that runs ahead of caution; returning or forwarding it suggests a firm sense of where one person's business ends. Leaving it on the side is often read as a wish not to be involved at all.

5. The bridge in the fog

You come to a long bridge. Fog hides the far end. Someone is crossing towards you from the other side, but you cannot yet make out who. Do you walk on, wait where you are, or turn back?

What it reveals: the bridge is read as how you approach new people. Walking on suggests you meet strangers halfway and decide later. Waiting suggests you like to see someone clearly before you move. Turning back is read as caution about new connections at the moment, which may say more about your week than about you.

Scenes about what you want

6. The key in the grass

Walking in a park, you find a key in the grass. What does it look like: small and modern, heavy and old, ornate? What do you do with it?

What it reveals: the key is read as an opportunity you sense is within reach. Its size and age are read as how significant that opportunity feels. Pocketing it suggests you mean to find the lock; handing it in suggests you prefer chances that come through proper channels; leaving it where it lies suggests the timing does not feel right.

7. The staircase with no landing

You are climbing a staircase. You have been climbing for some time and cannot see the top. How do you feel, and do you keep going, sit down to rest, or go back down?

What it reveals: the staircase is read as your relationship with long effort, the kind where progress is real but the end is not in sight. Your feeling on the stairs, steady, impatient, tired or curious, is read as how that effort feels to you now. Sitting down to rest is not giving up; it is often read as someone who knows how to pace a long climb.

Scenes about difficulty and endings

8. The lights go out

You are at home in the evening when every light in the building goes out. What is the first thing you do?

What it reveals: this scene is read as your first reflex under sudden pressure. Reaching for a torch or the fuse box suggests you move to fix things; checking on whoever else is there suggests you look after people first; sitting still to let your eyes adjust suggests you wait to understand before acting. None is the right answer, and most people recognise their own reflex at once.

9. The last train

You arrive at the station just as the last train of the night pulls away. What do you do: run for it, find another way home, sit in the station until morning, or call someone?

What it reveals: the missed train is read as how you meet a door that has closed. Running for it suggests you do not accept an ending easily. Finding another way suggests you adapt quickly. Waiting until morning is read as patience, or a willingness to let the night be what it is. Calling someone is read as a readiness to ask for help when a plan falls through.

What kokology questions can't tell you

These are party games, and it is worth saying so plainly. None of the scenes on this page has been validated as a psychological measure, and the meanings are conventions rather than results. A single answer to a single scene is mostly what you bring to it. Ask yourself the same question on a different evening and you may well give a different answer.

They cannot diagnose anything, predict anything or tell you whether two people are suited. They are also not astrology or tarot, a distinction we take seriously: nothing here uses a birth date or chance, only what you chose. That is a real difference, though it does not by itself make a game accurate.

What they do well is start a conversation. Most people have never been asked how they meet a closed door, and a missed train is an easy way to talk about it.

From nine scenes to a fuller reading

The trouble with single scenes is that each one carries all the weight. One answer becomes one meaning, and a passing mood decides the result. The way round that is more scenes, with each answer counting a little towards several dimensions at once, so that a pattern has to show up repeatedly before it means anything. Our own reading reads every answer against six shared axes in this way.

That reading is twenty-one scenes long and none of the questions on this page appear in it. If these nine left you curious, you can take it here; you see your result before you are asked to pay.