
Day 87: What If Not knowing Is the Way Forward
There is a statement the world is often uncomfortable hearing:
“I do not know the thing I am, and therefore do not know what I am doing, where I am, or how to look upon the world or on myself.
Yet in this learning is salvation born. And what you are will tell you of itself.”
This is from A Course in Miracles.
For someone standing in the in-between, not knowing what comes next, this can feel either comforting or unsettling.
It depends on what you believe about not knowing.
As I read replies to these writings and comments on videos, I see this reflected clearly.
Reaching the point where you can admit that you do not fully know who you are, what you are here to do, or even how to see yourself or the world, is not a failure.
It is a threshold.
It is part of the path of releasing who you thought you were, so that something truer can emerge.
We come into this world knowing.
And then, slowly, we are shaped.
Told who to be.
How to act.
What is acceptable.
What should make us happy.
Over time, we learn to fit inside those definitions.
We try to make them work.
But somewhere deeper, if you are willing to be honest, you can feel it.
That is not the full truth of who you are.
You are something much more expansive.
But you were taught it was safer to stay contained.
To be quiet.
To know your place.
And now, at this stage in your life, after the upheaval, after the life quake, after the outward healing has been done, something else begins.
Now is the time to turn inward.
Not to fix yourself.
But to meet yourself.
To discover who you have become by walking through the fire.
To choose, consciously, who you want to be going forward.
And to ask, gently and honestly, what is true for you now, if you release everything you have been told to believe.
This is where surrender begins to feel less like loss and more like openness.
You do not need to have the full picture.
You only need to be willing to take the next step.
And then the next will reveal itself.
When you soften your grip on control, release the past, and become open enough to say, “show me what’s next,” something begins to move.
Not always dramatically.
But unmistakably.
I know this because I have lived it.
After breast cancer, I left the place I thought I would live for the rest of my life.
A small ocean community.
A life I loved.
I moved to a major city in the desert, in another country.
Not because it made sense.
But because something in me trusted that there was a larger intelligence guiding me.
Before that, if you had asked me if I wanted to leave, I would have said no.
If you had asked me if I wanted to become an entrepreneur, I would not have even known what that meant beyond opening a shop.
If you had told me that I would one day be standing on stages speaking to hundreds of people, I would have said no thank you.
That is not who I am.
And yet, that is exactly what unfolded.
I was not asked.
Because from where I stood, I would have chosen what felt safe and familiar.
Instead, I followed something quieter.
Step by step.
And over time, I found myself in a completely different life.
One that was deeply fulfilling.
Expansive.
Aligned in ways I could not have imagined before.
It shaped the last 27 years of my life.
I share this with you so you can feel this.
It is okay that you do not know what comes next.
You are not meant to see the whole path from where you are standing.
Right now, it may feel like fog.
But if you can shift from “I don’t know” as fear, into “I don’t know, and I am open,” something begins to change.
You are not lost.
You are in the unfolding.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear what feels uncertain for you right now.

Today’s Gentle Practice
Take a quiet moment today.
Notice where you feel the need to figure everything out.
Take one slow breath.
And gently say:
I am open to what I cannot yet see.
Then let it go, just for now.
If this resonated, I’d love to hear from you.
Just reply and share what came up for you.
With you,
Lynn


