Not Knowing. . .

From a young age, many of us are afraid to be someone who doesn’t know. Maybe we are so scared to be seen as dumb and therefore unacceptable, so we wing it and hope the other person doesn’t see that we don’t have a clue. Studies have shown that when children are giving unanswerable questions, they make up answers, to seem like they know rather than to be found not knowing. This habit sticks with as we grow up, for some of us “I don’t know” become the three hardest words to say. We all know that feeling; usually, halfway through, when we realize we have no clue what we are saying and how much easier it would be to say, “ I don’t know.” Instead, we find ourselves five years old again, dancing around with our made up answers, still hoping no one will notice. So how can we cultivate the non-dual spirit of “I don’t know”? The first thing is to simply be willing not to know, to let go of the knowing. I have found the world is lighter when I am free of having to know, I am more patient, less stressed, open. Here is the single concrete thing  to cultivate the not knowing. There is a good practice suggested by many Buddhist teachers, to attach “I don’t know” to as many thoughts as possible. For example, when thoughts arise like, this is good, or this is bad, or I can’t handle this; these become, I don’t know if this is good or I don’t know if this is bad or I don’t know if I can’t handle this. It allows us to be free of fixed ideas; it can create curiosity and allows openness to creativity. Not knowing opens the world to us, it makes way for us to be compassionate, patient, kind, honest and help cultivate equanimity. Not knowing can open our hearts, can take us places we never dreamed of, to a tangible, transformative, endless world of possibility called not knowing. I want to underscore: this not knowing has endless creative possibilities. The moment we surrender to not knowing,  we discover a well that apparently is bottomless, bubbling with life-giving insights. I would like to close with the words of Zen teacher of the 9th century, Dizang, “not knowing is most intimate knowledge one can cultivate.”