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I notice myself suddenly overcome with an overwhelm that asks me questions like: ‘how will you do it?’ ‘when will it happen?’ and, ‘in what order?’ They swarm me, berate me and I become more tense with every frustrated silence that follows each sporadic question mark. I pace through my bedroom, and I see something quiet in the foreground. It is not heavy nor is it louder than the questions themselves, but perhaps it holds more weight. It’s fuzzy but I feel it clearly.
I notice something that all of my questions without answers have in common. Something more real, more honest. It sits beneath the spunky and stubborn cross-examinations that downpour on me. I observe how it is not something that I have always known, or been familiar with. Not like this. This is something that I have fought for, fought against, denied, resisted, refused and fought for again.
It is the fact that I want to go on living.
My questions themselves each serve me as a reminder of my own curiosity about existence and how I may continue to belong to it.
I have sunk into many loops of being where I was not interested in the answers or in asking the questions. Once upon a time, it was only a rancid dread that warmed me.
I couldn’t perceive the gift that keeps on giving then, I didn’t know where to look for it or how to see.
The intricacies of my life’s unknowns are enough now, and not because I am closer to any kind of solidity or matter of fact, but because I can conceive of what within me wants to live. In this way I find myself following breadcrumbs. I see how the specificities of any given answer is not what is needed to continue, but instead, the audacious nosiness to go forth, to find out, to seek, to discover. You don’t need to know to go on.
The only way you can arrive at something that you do not yet know is to go on not knowing.
I cry tears of joy as I unearth the uncomplicated innerstanding that beyond all of my unanswered questions is the valiant desire and will to live and live well.
Suddenly, what I don’t know, can’t know, won’t know is a bridge, because as long as I want to be here, I can trust that something wants me to be here too. I know this because I exist, and if I exist, then something that wants me to live exists too.
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Tears in my eyes currently. Your words always instil in me a warmer perspective of myself