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We had a conversation last evening, a couple of friends on the verge.
The hope mingled with despair, Tears and empty hands moving.
The palpable tension, and the not so quiet question,
where do we go from here—Stay leave?
And right there, in this back and forth drama of a forced decision,
showed up my friend—Uncertainty.
She never waits for an invitation, this one.

People often run away from her. With all kinds of excuses.
Plan-hope-positivity-busy, to name a few.

She is shy, fresh faced, no makeup—Tentative.
An orphaned child, that belongs to everyone.
And yet full. Full of breath. Held.
People like to save on breaths during such times.
She knows this. Uncertainty. She is wise like that.

She knows she is in not welcome.
She knows—“I don’t know” is a scary answer
And she stands on a very fine line, Between two peaks of certainties.
And yet she speaks of, both.
She speaks to, both.
She is both.

She has a heart, that is compassionate and fierce
She has a mind, that is calm and clear
Her actions are born of inaction
She has an unhurried demeanor
And a swag of someone who knows her place in the world.
She smiles, when there are no answers
She is patient when pressure valves are bursting.

She is poised when history gets written and rewritten
She has no need—for understanding. She knows.
She has the wisdom of the certain, elders
And also, the faith of a child, that does not hope.

Only in her presence, there is awareness that is alert.
The truth of the felt heartbeat, and not the repeat beats of the drums of the past.

In her embrace grief finds a place to just stop. And rest.
And does not feel like a speed bump that has to be crossed.

Her unfocussed vision sees all, without boundaries.
Listens to everything, without judgement.
She kindles the dormant fires of courage,
Sometimes, gently.
Other times, she comes in with a thunder, To wake people from their willful slumber.

But at all times, she does it with love.
A Great love that only exists momentarily, in the present moment.
and so, exists forever.

People keep coming up with many strategies to deal with her
To not have to meet her. To feel somehow “armed” against her.

And yet, In that place, with Uncertainty
Perhaps we can finally meet—Ourselves as we are.
and the world as it is.
beautiful and messed up and yet the only one we have.
We meet.
Vulnerably. Softly. Truly.

Rest in the not knowing…surrender.

We can let the held breath…go now.
yes, It’s uncertain
And it’s ok.
…or not.

~

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