Unequivocally. I have asked myself tonight, “what were you thinking?” The fourth time I asked myself I answered and my answer still remains…”I’m not sure“.
“I’m not sure” seems to be a plague ravaging every part of my being. Yet, I am pleasantly ok with the thought of not being sure.
“It’s sort of peaceful,” I think as I cross my legs on this mattress. Relinquishing all ability to focus my self-infringed control issues upon my brain. It’s freeing.
It frees my mental space and opens the capacity to be something more than creative and something less than concerned.
“I’m not sure” has become an episode of life flashing before my eyes. A good flash like New Year’s Eve celebrations, laughing heartily at the previous eleven months while anticipating one day.
It has become my motto for this year.
In my top five, “I’m not sure” has painted a picture of blissful ignorance. Upheld a dismissive demeanor of the future. Chuckling smugly at serious plans. It opens the opportunity to question motives.
“I’m not sure” declares that it is possible for me not to have a plan. To not be considered the expert on this topic.
Not just a possibility. It’s plausible that I’d rather stay in a place of “I’m not sure” then “I’m sure.”
The uncertainty allows the freedom to release all concerns over to a God that can handle it all.
It’s out of my hands and not on me to figure out. I can assist, but “I’m sure” it’s not my job.