I used to believe that I needed to have answers. As one of the youngest members of our extended family which included many cousins, neighbors, and friends, I learned how to spin truths and feign knowledge. "I don't know," was not acceptable and certainly did not distinguish one amongst many in competition for precious resources of affection and attention. If I did not know any question asked, I perfected the art of telling people what they wanted to hear. I could reroute my narrative based on how my audience was responding- watching for any sign that communicated pleasure, relief, skepticism,or disinterest.
Of late, I have become more familiar with the power of NOT knowing. The incomparable wisdom of admitting the limits of knowledge or expertise that can create more comfort than an assertive but hollow fact. To sit with ambiguity or offer another person company in the lonely awareness of an uncertain truth can be more profound than a disingenuous assurance of sincerity. When I am asked a question, I am learning that this is my invitation to think, not stage for the knitting of slick yarns and sticky threads of the tangled web I weave.
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