Live - the Certainty of Uncertainty
I appreciate the wisdom of accepting that from ashes unexpectedly beautiful things can emerge . . . that there is always more to understand, more to accept, more to experience beyond all those open windows. Moment by moment our individual reality can be rocked by the uncertainty of life’s inevitable changes. Sometimes subtle, sometimes catastrophic and every stop along the spectrum, unexpected changes teach us that uncertainty is a life certainty.
Matt’s been relentless during these last many weeks, insisting that its time I do something . . . remember something important . . . write something.
So, I finally asked – out loud, because I’m feeling uncomfortably hounded – “Why now? Why is this so important for me to do now?”
The answer came: “Because, Mom, you’ve been scared into grief again. And it is past time to recall what you’ve learned about uncertainty and move on.”
Yeah . . . well . . .ok. He’s right. It is time. That’s when words from the 17th century Japanese poet, Masahide, found me:
Barn’s burnt down
now I can see the moon
And I remembered:
~ there will always be more than one truth, more than one way to regard every reality we face
~ embracing uncertainty pushes me to open to the potential creativity and light of a larger reality
That’s where Paradox “both-and” thinking, and its Gap come into play.
Basically, a paradox requires that we welcome into our thinking two different, and often contrary truths about the same idea. It replaces “either-or” thinking with “both-and” thinking. Instead of my being either certain or uncertain, either fearful or at peace, I’m to take a breath and step back. What’s the possibility that my life holds a wider reality where they meet?
The space that lies between what we call reality . . . and what that same reality might/should also be, is the Gap. The gap gives us time – time to intentionally enter it, confront old ideas and uncertainties, and then entertain and actually create new ways of challenging and perceiving our reality.
You know these realities as well as I – a door closes and a window opens; something burns down and a beautiful skyline appears; an accident happens and a miracle occurs in its midst. Lately I’ve be so upended by the closed door, the unpredictable health events, the wrecked car, the unexpected phone calls that I’ve let myself forget how to look for the open windows beyond each worrisome uncertainty.
On my best days, I know better.
Son, thank you for the reminder. Now, can we take a break?
To each of you – we wish you grace as you walk into your best days . . . full of gaps that open you into the light of reimagined realities.