It’s Okay to Not Know
Hello Dear Ones!
Spring is here in our little mountain town. The daffodils are so bright and cheerful, and winter coats are becoming optional as the sun warms the earth. My son and I have been inside far too much, healing from a lingering cold. We are just now stepping back out into the world, just now starting to revel in the dazzling springtime land around us.
Having spent weeks away from writing (because of illness) I cannot tell you how delicious it is to sit in the sunshine, tea in hand, and simply write. I am sinking into this writing like a thirsty person in the desert. Thank you for your patience as you waited for me to come back to writing. I deeply appreciate your kindness and patience.
In the midst of winter, in the midst of the quick and busy pace of a young family, and in the midst of viral illnesses, I’ve been thinking. I could laugh as I say this- I am SUCH a thinker. I am always deeply thinking, reflecting, musing, wondering. Anyway, I’ve been deep in my pondering mind, with a wondering. I am 46. I am straddling the lands of youth and elder wisdom. Every time I see a new gray hair, I celebrate: “Yes, I am building stature as a wise woman!” And also too I feel a sadness as I sense a letting-go of the older versions of myself. They always live with me, yes! But I can feel a transition of letting them just be past versions of myself. In the midst of all of this, is all of my wondering: Which parts do I continue to nourish and invite to grow within me, which parts do I let go of, and what new things shall I envision, dream, build, create? I can see age 60 on the horizon. Between now and then, what are my highest dreams and priorities? This wondering holds my attention so much of the time… it is a low hum in the background of my life.
Sometimes it is exciting to be in the wondering, and to just be wide open to the dreaming and creativity in it. And sometimes it feels really painful to not know, to not always feel clear in my dreamings, my longings and my chosen path.
Yesterday, I received the most wonderful gift in the mail from a friend. A handmade card and a beautiful book. The card took my breath away. It said:
it’s okay to not know
She read my mind. She knows me, this very dear friend… She sees me and she knows my inner landscape, the ways in which I sometimes writhe and struggle on the inside, the way I wonder (sometimes painfully), and… dare I say it out loud… the way I sometimes perseverate. She sees me and she handed to me the words that would serve as a catalyst, words that would shift my thinking and release me from perseveration.
You know, it’s interesting: Sometimes too, answers come when we least expect it. Last week, deep in illness with my son, our family system collapsing because no one was well… beauty happened. I announced that I was headed to bed for “Mama Quiet Rest”, as we call it. Tea in hand, I crawled into bed after lunch. I lay there and lightly reread a book. And then BOOM! Some answers came. When my mind was totally open, not wondering, not worrying, barely thinking, I saw an idea float into my head. A skeleton of an idea. I wrote and wrote and wrote it out, and then thought: “Well then, this feels important”. It’s a rough sketch of an idea in words, nothing to share or act on yet. But an idea to roll around and work on.
A part of me wants to know RIGHT NOW if I should put this idea into action. And then I come back to those wise words: it’s okay to not know.
I think these words likely will speak to you too. Are there places where you wonder, worry, perseverate, wish you had a crystal ball that would reveal wise answers??? I’d like to offer to you this: It’s really, truly okay to not know the answer to something that puzzles you. It’s truly okay to not have all the information yet, to not have lived into the question enough. And it’s okay that it just might not yet be time for clarity to present itself.
I think so many of us have been led to believe that if we work hard enough, any answer can suddenly be clear in a nanosecond. But what about the waiting and patience bit? What about the faith part? What about the fact that life is complex, and sometimes the complexity takes decades to unravel and become simple and understandable?
What is your relationship to the act of puzzling through something? Do you give yourself loving support and patience in the process, or do you struggle and wish an answer would come sooner? Are you gentle or are you critical with yourself? And… how would you love to be in these moments? Can you practice more gentleness, more patience with yourself, more trust, more faith, more openness?
Imagine a life in which we wholeheartedly make loving space for all the time needed. For everything.
In deep gratitude for everything in this sweet life,
Rebecca
P.S. If you want to know who made the card, it is made by a beautiful California-based company called Farmette. You can find them at www.farmette.co
* Disclaimer: This likely goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: Everything I write is for educational purposes only. Nothing I write or share can be deemed diagnostic or medical advice. Nothing I write or share can replace your own healthcare providers or your own internal knowing and wisdom. Period. Please seek tailored medical care and advice via your skilled healthcare team whenever you need it.
