There is an angst that is paired with not knowing. This is a feeling that everyone is running from, all the time.
It’s so hard to sit still when you do not know what’s about to happen. The mere thought of that seems ridiculous because you never really know what’s going to happen next, you just think you do.
The ego is so skilled at what I like to call upside down faith.
(Upside down faith: is faith in the unknown, while believing that you actually know)
The ego bases its reality on what has already happened. And what it perceives is going to happen (based on what’s already happened). But never about what’s happening right now. For this reason, the ego trusts the past, even when it’s painful, and formulates ideas of the future on the basis of pain.
Crazy, right?
Maybe, but it’s absolutely true. And this upside down faith is the reason that you can’t sit in the present. It’s the reason that you struggle with not knowing. When the ego cannot get a firm grasp on what it thinks might happen, it goes bananas!
You feel like you need to spring into action, any action. You make irrational decisions, just to make something happen. You pop-off, when there’s nothing to say. And you make up stories, because you just don’t know what to do with yourself. You create drama in your relationships, because dysfunction feels better than no function.
It’s an endless loop of crazy pants-ness.
But if you can slow down, just long enough to be with the nothingness, things will begin to shift. There is so much clarity in stillness. Because not knowing is really an archaeological dig into something-ness.
Silence speaks the language of lucidity.
Motionlessness is really just movement slowed way down. (tweet this)
Be with the discomfort. Soothe your ego without the aid of distractions. Just let it run, on a loop, in a circle, until it gets tired and quiet. Meditate it into slumber… and then listen.
Not for words, not for a sign, but for answers.
Clarity speaks in images. It appears as signs. It whispers in the space between words. It might crawl at a snails pace, but it’s always on time.
Wait for it.