You don’t need to know.
Have you ever been the recipient of a surprise party? You drive home from work, get slowly out of the car, wipe your muddy shoes on the mat and walk inside like you do every afternoon, five days a week.
And then you see a poster with your name emblazoned on it strung across the length of the dining room; people you haven’t seen for months pop up from behind the sofa bearing balloons; streamers drop from the ceiling to entangle your hair; there’s a burst of cheering; and you see tears in other’s eyes through the tears of joy in your own.
It’s at times like these you admit to yourself that you don’t always know what’s really going on.
But do you ever really know what’s going on? Can you tell the world what this life is all about? Do you really know what will happen when you die? Can you guarantee what will unfold in the next minute, hour or day . . . or what the next second will bring?
When you weigh all the things you don’t and can’t know against what you do, the scale is heavily weighted on the former.
You know how to read. You’ve memorised the Table of the Elements and the planets in your solar system. You know a lot of countries, their capitals and their kings. You know how to cook a chook and whip up a curry in a hurry. You know how to drive, vote, phone an ambulance and purchase your needs online. You know the names of your friends and enemies. You know that kangaroos are native to Australia and polar bears are nearing extinction. You know the space allocated to you on a plane should be reported to the Department of Cruelty to Humans. You know how to do your job.
But you don’t know what’s really going on. You don’t know why you’re here; what your purpose is; what you should do next.
And that’s a good thing.
Because life is just one long surprise party!
You don’t know what’s going on. And you can’t know.
Admitting this is a powerful position to take. It releases you from a false sense of security. It stops you being smug. It keeps you on your toes.
Admitting that you can’t know allows you to let go of the fear of not knowing.
It’s not a cop-out to say you don’t know. It’s the truth!
Admitting it sets you free to live your life in a fresh, vibrant way.
Smile. Shrug. Lend a hand if you can. Bend with the wind. Be prepared for whatever turns up.
Let the light of you not knowing shine on the world.
With love, Marlane