I Don’t Know.

Lately I’ve been feeling the pressure to be certain about things. To make up my mind, to rest on one thing, to move forward with purpose and alignment. To settle in solid foundations and work my way up from there. To say yes with absolute surety, or no with complete clarity. And I’ve realised that the desire to be sure has taken away from my ability to listen deep down, to intuition or just a “feeling”. And right now that feeling seems to be “I just don’t know”.

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In yogic philosophy, aparigraha is one of the five yamas in Patanjali’s Eight Limbs of Yoga. The yamas are essentially moral guidelines by which to live with regard to our relationship with ourselves, and the world around us. Aparigraha means practicing non-attachment – to a situation, to a person, to physical possessions, to a certain outcome, on and off the mat. Relinquishing control or possession over anything outside of our own awareness. Loosening our grip on the things outside of our control.

We tend to cling to things that seem solid and steady in nature – houses, partners, occupations. Things that give us structure and stability from day to day. Because we are desperately seeking something that says “for ever and always” or at least “long term stability” to us. It’s why we dive into relationships that aren’t quite right, it’s why we stay in jobs that we’ve outgrown, it’s why we go into debt to build a home. We invest into something we recognise as the structure of life in the hopes that it will, by default, make things more black and white.

It feels good to be certain, but is it the truth? Perhaps, if we can relinquish fear, then uncertainty becomes the colour in the cracks of life. We can never truly know what comes next, but we can embrace the possibilities of the unknown.

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But if we try to control and pin things down, to hold the inevitable ups and downs of life at arms length, we never get close enough to feel anything deeply. If we stick to the solid structure of things rather than prising open the doors of possibility with curiosity, we stay stuck in this place of fear, of “what if”.

What if it’s taken away from me?

What if I fail?

What if this ends?

It will probably end, yes. Or at least it will change shape and structure, thousands of times, and to move with grace through each transition you learn to be wholeheartedly present for each up and down, ebb and flow. Because what is the alternative?

To hold back your god-given talents, in fear of being misunderstood?

To stay in a job that dims your light, in fear of being unable to support yourself?

To not say how you feel, in fear of being rejected?

To stay in a relationship that doesn’t serve you, in fear of being alone?

To love a little less, in fear of your heart being broken?

In fear.

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I know, deep down, that I have a tendency to flail around in uncertainty for a period of time, feel deeply uncomfortable in that space, and then throw myself into the first thing that comes my way that to me represents stability and certainty. Whereas if I allowed myself to be comfortable with the discomfort of uncertainty a little while longer, I might come to a conclusion from a place of love rather than fear. I might move in a direction that feels more in alignment with me.

When I embrace uncertainty, I move with more clarity.

Through listening and feeling, in quietness and stillness, I’m realising that sometimes it’s okay to say “I don’t know”. To embrace uncertainty as a way of being wholeheartedly present. To embrace the moments in which I feel confused and unsure as moments of being truly alive.

Wholehearted presence as a way of living, and a way of being.

The only thing I can truly be certain about, is that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

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