There’s this practice I was put onto by my dear friend Laura. It’s a practice of letting questions go unanswered.
This is challenging for me because I love answering questions. But I also love coming back to the space between and re-learning to be with the unknown, the mystery. Especially during the darker, yin side of the seasonal cycle.
We always seem to be looking for answers. But in our rush to fill unknown spaces, we can sacrifice some openness and potential beauty.
It’s like trying to hatch an egg or break a seed open ourselves: we know deep down that the seed or the egg has its own timing, and can only really, truly break open from within, but we go for it anyway. Effort somehow = better.
But how would it be to welcome more space? To open up and let go a little bit more?
This practice asks us to sit back a bit in our being and get comfortable in that little space.
Life seems to have a way of responding to this in a mysterious, somehow synchronistic, and organic way.
And it’s a really beautiful thing to feel the living presence of life responding to our inner wonderings and curiosities. It’s letting life approach you, and seeing what arises.
Wonderment and awe is something that we own when we’re children. It’s natural to welcome the perspective that we don’t know something, that we’re curious and open in our innocence. But gradually, as the years go by, we’re taught to seek to know, to draw the line somewhere and close off with conclusions…
But what about the mystery?
I bring this up now because it’s a perfect practice for wintertime, as the earth sleeps and dreams. It’s simple and immediate. A return to wombtime consciousness, or the pregnant space.
This practice may not give you definitive answers but it takes you deeper into the nature of the question, and the one who wonders.
What questions are arising for you now? What might you sit in and wonder as we approach the winter solstice?