...Imagine now, that you are walking barefoot into this swamp. You have been told what teaching is, experienced it from your perspective as a learner, or even from an observation chair at the back of the class. But now you actually enter in. Your first steps feel alien as your feet sink deep into silt. The water is murky, and you can only see vague shadows of what lies below the surface. Unexpected movement, interesting smells and unsettling sounds surround you. There are hidden processes at work here, and you are unsure how to proceed.Nevertheless, you take small steps, and you begin to attend differently. Rather than base your actions solely on what you know intellectually, you pay attention to what you feel through the bottom of your feet. Is that a rock? How deep will the water get? Are there any holes? Suddenly, you lose your footing! Little fish scurry away from you as you frantically try not to fall into the slimy unknown. Your hands grasp convulsively, searching for balance.No intellectual description prepared you for this. Luckily you find your balance through motion and intuition. Whew! That was close. Your pants are wet to the knees now, and your recovered sunhat drips greenish water down your ears...A swamp is it’s own habitat with layers of complexity and multiple living creatures. It is a necessary filter for water in this ecosystem, and provides suitable habitat for creatures large and small. Some of these animals are endemic to that swamp alone, while others are merely passing through. The swamp sits in the context of a larger space. As you move through the space, you gradually improve your ability to proceed without falling. By giving the swamp your attention the sense of it being alien starts to fade. Gradually, you are able to remember where that treacherous hole is, and how to navigate around it.
An unbounded [question] is far more complex because it can legitimately be defined in many different ways (Henderson, 1992).