We live in an age where information is coming at us from all directions.  Whether it be from our blackberry, computer, cell phone or twitter account, we’re all tapped in, tuned up and ready for the next piece of information to come our way. While I have no objection to the fast and furious ways about which we can operate in a day, I wonder how more more we can get plugged in and revved up. I wonder how much more cloaking of  this ever thickening layer of uncertainty we can muster.  Our   “I need to know now” society and state of mind that we collectively share is certainly familiar to me and I would imagine to most. But what happens to this mind when there is no way of knowing and there is no certainty to hold on to?  Is there a way to find a balance between the “need to know now” mind and the “I don’t know now” mind?

What if instead of not needing to know, we could allow the space to exist between the knowing and the not knowing? What if we could simply rest in that space and allow what is dismantling to fall apart and what is emerging to rise to the top?Whether it be a relationship or a job or the state of the economy, might it support us both individually and collectively to develop a quality of trust and patience within us as things rise and fall, and as things stir and then settle. In these times, can we allow the natural intelligence and order of the universe to continue operating as it does as we furiously try to find our foothold and safe place amidst it all. Can we feel assured that there is a larger more peaceful force within us and surrounding us that always has wisdom and order as its backdrop. If we alleviate the pressure within us to know, perhaps we might discover something totally brilliant in the absence of this need to know. Perhaps without the pressure we can instead in its place find ease and peace?

The space that Joan Borysenko  calls (in her book ‘Saying Yes to Change’) the space between what is “no longer” and what is “not yet”  is such a crucial space and time for the emergence of curiosity and discovery and for creations to begin taking form.  Might we be able to exchange our panic and fear of the unknown for wonder and trust? Perhaps we can even rest in this not knowing, and believe in this space as a place for incredible possibility and opportunity.  I know one thing for certain, I always love to be reminded of this:

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.” –