.
Let’s be honest —
none of us
have a clue.
.
We’re born knowing nothing.
Then slowly,
we inherit stories
to place us in the world.
.
Curiosity fades.
We settle into roles,
building our identity
with selective evidence
to soothe the ache
of not knowing.
.
But for some of us,
that’s never enough.
.
We begin to question again.
And in that rediscovery,
we see it clearly:
we still know nothing—
not at the root.
The narrative collapses.
And with it,
a recognition arises:
.
There is only one
not-knowing.
One pair of eyes,
one breath,
one body sensing.
.
This unknowing
is the Source
peering through
a thousand masks.
.
If we could just
admit this together—
let go of needing to know—
what an explosion
of becoming
we could undertake.
.
One vast body.
One shared mystery.