What do you do with “I don’t know”?
OK, so, death is something I often ponder. I don’t know why and I’m not sure it matters why. I’m aware of death as the end of a process – e.g. death of a project, a relationship, a poem, a story, or a season. I respect Winter as the death of Autumn and Autumn as the death of Summer. Then, there is the death of a culture a social movement, a political process. Death can be synonymous with “the end”, or “it’s over”, or “that’s all folks”.
Lately, I’ve been obsessing about what comes after any creature’s last breath, of course, including mine and yours. Finally, this morning, I was showered (literally) with the thought, “Hell, I don’t know” and then I was washed by Relief when a wet trickle whispered “and, that’s ok”. Meaning, “it’s OK not to know” or “It’s OK to not know” – I’m not sure one is clearer than the other. What do you think?
“Yes”, I argue with mySelf, “but there ARE times when it’s not ok for me to “not know”. For example: I want to put home movies from the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s, upon the cloud so my family now and in the future, can view them. My grandfather and father were photographers and made miles of reel to reel movies which I had made into VHS and then into DVD. After spending too many hours on You-tube, I gave up (so hard for me to do) and went to a large retail store to learn how to reach that critically important goal.
It was Tuesday and noonish and there were no other customers to be seen. I approached one of the (many) “associates” – call him “Mark” – on the floor and asked how it could be done. Hope for instruction had returned and, although I didn’t expect resolution, at that point any idea would have helped.
Within one minute, another “associate” marched toward us and barked at Mark, “You can’t answer that question – it’s too technical”. This guy’s approach, tone of voice and military style irritated me to the point I said, “fuck you” after he was too far away to hear me.
I turned back to Mark to resume the conversation, and, incredulously, he thrust his pointy finger toward my chest and scolded “that was an inappropriate thing to say”. No satire, no humor. Authoritarian. Shocking.
“What?”, I shouted at him and all the other finger pointing jerks in the universe, “I’m dying and sometimes dying people say inappropriate things”. I humphed away – blurry eyed, defeated. Still no way to get those DVDs onto the cloud. I’m churning with “I don’t know how”. And suddenly acutely aware that I’m not simply wanting to get those movies up there, but desperate to do so.
I’d had it with “don’t know”. I realized I really didn’t want to spend money to find out – that I wanted a free ride to freedom from the “I don’t know, but you should” internal sneers that arise when I’m in the dark about something.
So now, I choose to redesign my relationship with “Don’t know”. That is to say, “don’t know” sometimes “don’t matter”. Like, I don’t know why that guy was a jerk and it “don’t matter”.
“I don’t know” or “they don’t know” or “you don’t know” state facts – not failings. Today, even “I don’t know about what happens when the last breathe is released” is OK to not know.
Is it OK with YOU to “not know”? What, at this point in your life MUST you know? What DO you know for sure? Let’s talk!