Be willing to not know.

Sometimes I feel so bound by the things I want to say that I end up saying nothing.  I don’t know where to begin, or how to lay out the words to create the story picture I want to share.  I feel stuck.

So I am learning the value of being willing to not know.  It’s about a willingness to begin, and to figure it out along the way (the doing is the finding out).  It gets me moving.

Let me try to say it another way.

When I remember to be curious, it ignites a warmth and an invitation to begin and discover.  Curiosity loves finding out, so it is not held up by not knowing.  It turns over rocks to admire the earthworms and sow bugs.  Fear, on the other hand, is so anxious about getting things right that it becomes more stubborn when faced with not knowing.  Digs in its heels and stomps its feet.

Let me try again.

Curiosity is a better dance partner than fear.

They both seek your hand.  Fear will step on your toes and blame you for it, tell you you’re doing it all wrong and that the other dancers are better than you, ask why you even came and then say that you should be grateful Fear is even spending time with you.

Curiosity says, “I don’t really know what I’m doing either, but isn’t it fun?” Curiosity has a light but firm hold, and you feel each other within the music, and somehow all the subtlety and nuance syncs up and flows.

Let me try again.

I met someone.  We kissed.  I have no idea what happens next.  I’m willing to not know.  I’m open to finding out.

Life’s pretty short.  Be curious.  Savor all of it.