
As we grow older our days are filled with not knowing. It seems, in other times of life, we knew more. We were sure of what we were doing, in spite of our insecurities. We had work. We had support systems, either of blood or choice. We had a sense of moving forward in life. Now, it’s all a bit unclear.
We don’t know how our joints will feel when we step out of bed. We don’t know if we might fall, or fall ill, today. We don’t know who might disappear out of our lives today or tomorrow or the next day. We don’t know if we might fall in love today or tomorrow—or fall in love all over again. We don’t know what will appear, unbidden, into our life, or what will vanish from sight.
In truth, even at younger life stages, we didn’t know. Now, however, we have a sense of our mortality that we didn’t have then, a sense of the boundaries of our lives.
These two aspects of awareness, mortality and not knowing, can combine to enliven each moment, if we are willing and curious. Being receptive to the ‘not knowing’ allows us to be open, attentive, and even beguiled by each moment. We can only learn what was previously unknown to us. So living in not knowing empowers us to expand our knowledge, our creativity, and our insight, our simply being with what is.
It takes courage to live in this space, for our uniqueness lives in the land of not knowing. Seeing our lives, and the lives of those around us, through the lens of not knowing opens our hearts and minds to the possibilities that surround us. There is now space in our being for more—more love, more tears, more joy, more grief.
Here lies our wisdom. This willingness to expand our awareness, to be curious about each day, regardless of our fears and the state of our joints, takes us into the world of the elder.
The not knowing, and the courage to be there, brings fulfilment and value to our growing in age.