letting go of the need to know
I’ve spent two weeks in a place I didn’t think I would be acquainted with for at least the first 30 years of my life. Some days I am woken up by the subtle, yet self assured face of the sun, inviting me to step outside and bask in all of its justifiably conceited glory. Equally so, there are days when the grey skies remind me that inexplicable sadness is a human emotion none of us can escape from. When the craving for sleep is no longer about feeling tired, but about the need to withdraw from the feelings associated with living. When all your heart wants to do is be held by the comfort of darkness.
I walk a lot these days. Mostly because that’s how people in this city seem to get from one place to another. During my commutes I am often escorted by the wave of anxiety that comes with the feeling of not being in control of one’s life. The question of whether I am falling or flying consumes my mind and the desire to catch myself and take us back to a place that feels familiar remains constant. The fact is; I’m in a new city, fulfilling a new project that I designed, and for some very strange reason, people believe that it can work. There are actually people out there who think I am capable of the things I say I want to do. It’s honestly one of the most peculiar things I’ve come across.
When asked about my perceptions of the human experience, I tend to lean towards viewing it as one major experiment. Science is refined through trial and error, and God is the ultimate scientist who gives us free will to select the paths that resonate with our inquiry into what it means to truly be alive. What I find amusing is that I’ve had this understanding for a while however, this is the first time I have felt that I am completely leaning into being a living, breathing experiment. My life for the most part has made sense not only to myself, but to those around me. People could explain who I am and what I do in words that neatly fit into the common stages of life. “She’s a student,” “She works in retail.” Now I sit at family gatherings with aunts and cousins saying to me, with obvious concern, “My friends are asking me what you’re doing with your life, what do I tell them?”
The funny thing about the connection between the human brain and mouth is that we can very adequately articulate the many lessons that we’ve heard or observed about the journey of life. For some peculiar reason our bodies take time to live the lessons we so graciously preach about. So I guess the universe has taken on the role of giving me exactly what I so articulately love to preach about; trusting the process. Whether I find in the end that I was flying or falling, the motion of letting go is one of the most divine processes that brings us closer to that which we don’t know, God.
I recently had the privilege of experiencing a magnificent movement piece titled; “The Nature of We.” Two dancers came into the space and inspired us to embody the idea of effortlessness. Grass doesn’t try to grow, it just grows. And because we are part of nature, we too can unify ourselves with the complex ease and mystery of effortlessness. With effortlessness comes an immeasurable and profound level of trust. Trust in those you move with, trust in the processes that birthed you, and more importantly; trust in yourself as a divine being who feels more than they need to know.
I grew up in an environment that knew more than it felt. Getting through moments of intense and paralyzing grief was a logical exercise. ‘What is the most productive and effective way to get through this loss?’ ‘How do I ensure that this tragedy does not change the trajectory of my life? I must remain strong.’
Feeling requires an impenetrable level of trust in yourself and the worthiness of your vulnerability. I battle with being vulnerable, it feels like a superpower I’m too anemic to grasp. Equally so, it feels as though it is one of the only places I can fully explore my divinity. Trust. Sometimes I will fall, sometimes I will fly. In the end it is all the same, it is all one.
letting go of the need to know.
Spiritual State by Nujabes, Uyama Hiroto
Lonely Heart by Thandi Ntuli