FREEDOM
The Freedom of Not Knowing: The Wisdom of I Don’t Know
We don’t know who we are.
Not really.
We don’t know why we are here.
We don’t know where we came from.
We don’t know how this ends.
We don’t know what happens next.
We don’t know where we go when we die, or if “where” is even the right question.
We don’t know who or what created this place.
We don’t know what consciousness actually is.
We don’t know why there is something rather than nothing.
We don’t know whether existence has some greater purpose or whether meaning is something we create while we are here.
We don’t know whether we truly have free will or simply experience ourselves as choosing.
We don’t even know how much of what we call reality exists independently of our perception of it.
We experience this extraordinary existence through a few senses and a human brain attempting to make meaning of something unimaginably larger than itself.
And then we develop opinions about it.
Strong ones.
We build religions, philosophies, scientific theories, political systems and entire identities around our attempts to explain what the hell is going on here.
Some of those explanations are beautiful.
Some are supported by extraordinary evidence.
Some have helped human beings navigate existence for thousands of years.
But beneath all of them remains an enormous mystery.
We don’t know
And perhaps admitting that isn’t ignorance.
Perhaps it’s humility.
I find something strangely peaceful about those three words.
I don’t know.
They leave room for curiosity.
For wonder.
For awe.
For possibility.
They leave room for other people to see things differently without requiring me to convince them that my interpretation of this mystery is the correct one.
And they bring me back to something much simpler.
I may not know why I am here.
But I know I am here.
Right now.
I know there are other human beings here with me, each carrying fears, hopes, grief, dreams, memories and questions of their own.
I know love feels different from hatred.
Kindness feels different from cruelty.
Service feels different from selfishness.
Connection feels different from isolation.
I know my actions affect other people.
I know my words can heal or wound.
I know I have some influence over what I bring into this moment.
And maybe that is enough.
Maybe I don’t need to solve the universe before breakfast.
Maybe my responsibility isn’t to understand the entire mystery.
Maybe it is simply to decide how I want to move through it.
Someday I will die.
So will everyone I love.
What happens after that?
I don’t know.
And neither does anyone else with certainty.
But today I am alive.
There are people I can love.
There are people I can serve.
There are amends I can make.
There is forgiveness I can offer.
There are hands I can hold.
There is laughter still waiting to happen.
There are sunrises I haven’t seen.
There are strangers whose lives may become intertwined with mine in ways neither of us could possibly predict.
There is still time to become a little kinder.
So perhaps the mystery doesn’t require an answer.
Perhaps it requires a response.
Mine is becoming remarkably simple:
Lead with love
Be kind
Serve others
Do no harm
And remain humble enough to say:
I don’t know