I am becoming more comfortable with not knowing. Paradoxically, it coincides with an inner confidence. For instance I don't understand how flowers emerge from the dirt, but I believe that they will.
Twenty years ago my daughter graduated from high school and as was the custom they sang a class song. Because of the preamble they has been asked by the administration to make, it sticks in my memory. The chorus was concise.
"We still haven't found what we're looking for."
The disclaimer was to give homage to the many truths they had been given during their time in high school.
Two decades later, I see those as homogeneous thoughts.
There are a bedrock of ideas that have become ever more integrated into my daily life. The Ten Commandments. The Golden Rule. The Sermon on the Mount. And yet there are nuances too. Crevices for resilient life to emerge through.
In the book I am reading by an oncologist/therapist, she mentions that in all her training and experience in hospital settings, she never heard the phrase "I don't know." For a doctor to admit ignorance carried a wallop of shame, and opened oneself up to ridicule. She no longer feels that way.
Neither do I.
