Recently I celebrated my 46th birthday, which means that the big five-oh has started to loom large on the horizon and 50 – definitely compared to 40, and most certainly compared to 30 – is a pretty serious age. It’s the age where you’re expected to have your you-know-what together; where you’re meant to know important things like how the universe works and how many glasses of Merlot you can get away with on a weeknight. And the thing I find a little disconcerting is that over the next four years, chances are slim to nonexistent that I’m going to know any more than I do at this exact moment as I write these words in my lounge on a rainy Tuesday. I suppose I sort of assumed that one day I’d wake up to find that I had it all figured out at last. Definitely I didn’t imagine that at this stage of the game I’d be as bewildered and unsure as I’ve ever been about this business called life.
While I can concede that I’ve picked up certain bits of wisdom along the way (like, you’ll never need anything but oil and vinegar to dress a salad, ever), at the same time mostly it feels like I’m still 10 years old, lying on the carpet of my mom and dad’s house in Somerset West beside a tall, black speaker listening to someone called Polly Brown singing Do You Know Where You’re Going To? while my parents entertain friends outside and I weep silently at the poignancy of the lyrics. Scrolling through Instagram a few days ago I came across something posted by a friend who is currently in Bali doing yoga (as one does when one is husband- and child-free). Her teacher had read it to the class and it was to do with not having all the answers, and it struck a deep chord with me.
Related: Six secret yoga benefits
As human beings we like things to be clear and predictable, and we tend to go to great lengths to preserve the status quo. And it’s the illusion of being in control that constitutes the paradigm of our day-to-day lives and causes fear to strike our hearts when the shadowy stranger of uncertainty comes knocking at the door. We do pretty much whatever we can to chase him away and pretend he doesn’t exist so that we don’t have to answer difficult questions to ourselves. But the truth is, he never really disappears, just backs into the shadows waiting to be noticed. So, what if – instead of closing the door in his face – we invited him in, offered him a chair and sat with him in contemplative silence? What if we brewed a pot of tea, looked Uncertainty in the eye and allowed him to say what was on his mind? Because maybe, within these uncomfortable questions, lies the truth about who we are. And as long as we turn our faces away we’ll never really know.
We’re so quick to be doing ‘fine’ and assuring others we’re on top of it all that often we don’t even admit to ourselves how not fine and not assured we sometimes feel about our lives. In contrast to the way the West teaches us to think, Buddhist doctrine celebrates this uncertainty for its potential to grow and transform us, and urges us humans to meditate on accepting things just the way they are: messy, chaotic, undetermined. It says, maybe it’s okay to be a little bit confused from time to time. Maybe it’s okay not to have the answers to all the questions. Maybe it’s perfectly fine to say, ‘I don’t know’, and leave it at that; to accept the not-knowingness as an integral part of life and the human condition. And maybe it’s not even as important as we’ve been led to believe to have it all figured out. I still listen to that song from time to time. I still have no idea where I’m going to. It’s likely I never will.
Susan Hayden is the voice behind the popular blog Disco Pants & A Mountain
ALSO READ:
Monthly column: Little monsters
Monthly column: Changing perspective
Monthly column: Exercising your rights
The post Monthly column: Hello, uncertainty appeared first on Good Housekeeping.
from Good Housekeeping http://ift.tt/2zxbUYe
via IFTTT
