Not Knowing

A gentle meditation on holding questions lightly, without needing to answer them.
This meditation is shared as a companion for presence and awareness.
You're invited to listen and notice what unfolds, without pressure or expectation.
~ A Gentler Way ~
© Tarja Moles
Image: teuvosalmenjoki | DepositPhotos

Transcript

Here we are. We can take a few moments. To gently move from whatever was happening before. Into simply. Being here. The body can position itself. How it wants to be. Sitting. Reclining or lying down. We can let it find a comfortable way of being. In its own way. And its own time. The eyes can rest under closed eyelids. Or they can remain open. And have a soft focus. Whatever feels natural. In this moment. We can invite the muscles around the eyes to ease a little. This easing and softening can spread. To the forehead. The jaw. The neck. And the shoulders. We don't need to hurry. It's enough. To let any softening happen. On its own. Today we are exploring. What it might be like. To hold a question. Without needing to answer it. For these next few moments. We're not trying to solve something. Or find a way through. We're merely noticing what it's like. When something remains open. There may be something. A question. And uncertainty. Something that hasn't resolved yet. Sitting somewhere. Perhaps it's very much on the foreground. Or hidden somewhere in the background. We don't have to name it explicitly. And we don't have to find an answer. We can just notice that it's there. Sometimes when something is unresolved. There can be a kind of reaching. A forward-leaning quality in the mind. A subtle searching for what's missing. For what would make things clear. We can notice that reaching. We don't have to follow it. And we don't need to stop it either. We can simply recognise. The urge to know. Is here. What might be underneath this urge to reach for an answer? If the reaching were to soften a little. Just a little. What's there? Might there be some sense of quietness or stillness or some sense of space? Perhaps something that feels a little like openness. A question can be held like it. It doesn't have to be clutched. The mind may return to it again and again. And each time it does, We can simply notice. The question is still here. And then we can let attention rest. Maybe the question doesn't need to be solved right now. For a little while. We might gently wander. What is it like when a question can simply be here? Without needing an answer. And now. We can let awareness widen again. We can start to sense the environment around us. Noticing the sounds Sensing the body resting on what supports it. Is no hurry. The question may still be here. And that's all right. When it feels right. We might start to wiggle the fingers or the toes a little. Maybe a deeper breath moves through on its own. And if the eyes have been closed. They can open in their own time. Taking in the space around us. As we move on with the day. Perhaps this can stay with us. Some things can remain open. For a while. And there's something alive. In that. And from here. We can continue. In a gentle way.