Being fuzzy on the right explanation, seeking a healthy dose of ignorance, holding the questions instead of the answers with grace, can sometimes be the wisest path. This poem talks about another path, one often taken by some lawyers.
“Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins:
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.I want them to water-ski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out if it.They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
Ever know anyone who beats life with a hose, trying to torture meaning out of it? People who are prone to tying topics to chairs and analyzing, analyzing, analyzing? Analysis can be tiring, and deadly boring.
IMPALED ON THE POINT
I once spent a whole day at a week-long training participating in exercises designed to teach us that one cannot have a good “yes” until one has a good “no.” The trainers wanted us to see that a true and strong “yes” cannot be said by a person who has not developed the ability to say a true and strong “no.”
A valid point, certainly, but . . . The point was tied to a chair and those hoses came out in full force. The point was whacked and swatted and smacked until we all wanted to say, “We confess. Whatever it is, we confess. Let us out of here.” Don’t suppose any of you have ever attended a training like that?
A good “no" and a good “yes” are important. But so is a good “I don’t know.” Sometimes saying “I don’t know” feels like a release, a relief. We don’t always have to know the answer. But do we know we don't?
Some people feel compelled to answer all questions with some answer besides “I don’t know.” These people seem allergic to those three liberating words. They wrinkle their brow and their brain, strain with thought, and emit an answer from their mouth.
And sometimes their answer can seem sempiternal. (I so appreciate the word "sempiternity" because even though it means forever, sempiternity sounds longer than forever or eternity, don’t you think?)
I’M OK BECAUSE IDK
Thought and dialogue and analysis are, of course, very valuable and necessary. But so is IDK (I don't know). I say let’s respect IDK. IDK is an integral part of wisdom.
IDK is also a fun place. When you say IDK, you get to play
with a multitude of answers.
You get to “drop a mouse into the [question] and watch him probe his way out.” You get to “walk inside the [question’s] room and feel the walls for a light switch.” You get to “water-ski across the surface of [question] waving at the [questioner] on the shore.”
TODAY LET'S . . .
Play with IDK today. Say “I don’t know” frequently and experience the freedom doing so gives you.
“How are you?” “I don’t know.” Smile at all the answers you might give. Drop in a mouse and let him frolic around in the question.
“What are you doing?” “I don’t know.” You are doing many things. Laugh as you feel around in the room of the question for a light switch.
“What do you mean?” “I don’t know.” Let your mind relax and flow with all the possible answers. Put on your water-skis and create waves in your brain.
Say “I don’t know” at least once an hour. You will jump out of some old ruts, interrupt some worn patterns, and originate some fresh, new answers.
You just may be surprised at how often saying “I don’t know” brings you new perspective, new clarity.
“I don’t know” expands your sense of humor, too. A very jolly and unknowing Saint Patrick's Day to you.
Photo credit: imageafter
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