photo: Stephen Wolfe on flickr

photo: Stephen Wolfe on flickr

How comfortable are you with not knowing?

Do you hate it? Or do you embrace the Unknown, bursting forth into its wide, expansive horizon?

Actually, it might not be a wide, expansive horizon. It could be. But it could also be a tiny cave with killer bats and a drooling cave monster.

That’s why they call it the Unknown. Because it’s, like, Un-known.

Perhaps you can you tell where I stand on the subject.

When I was a kid, I would sneak into my parent’s closet to find out what I was getting for Christmas. (Sorry, mom.) I’m the kind of person who peeks at the last page of a book to find out how it’s going to end.

To say that I’m not a big fan of the Unknown would be an understatement. If I could gather up signatures and present a petition to the Divine, asking for a ban on the Unknown, I would.

photo: Bernard Pollack on flickr

photo: Bernard Pollack on flickr

Despite this fact, I am someone who has continually positioned myself in situations where the Unknown was a primary factor.

When I graduated from college, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. None of the seemingly-solid options felt appealing to me. So instead of making any definite plans, and even though it stressed me out not to know what was going to happen, I allowed myself to go where I was guided to be.

I worked on a farm.

I started meditating.

As it turned out, it was pretty awesome.

At age thirty, I moved to California from Massachusetts, even though I knew no one in California and had no idea if a cross-county move was really a good idea.

Turns out it was.

At age forty-eight, I took early retirement from my job with Sonoma County. I hadn’t planned on leaving my job so early and I wasn’t absolutely-one-hundred-percent-sure it was really the right decision.

But once again, something inside was urging me to face the Unknown.

photo: Salim Al-Harthy on flickr

photo: Salim Al-Harthy on flickr

These days, Melissa and I are about to graduate from ministerial school.

We have a good idea of what we don’t want to do. We don’t want to be pulpit ministers. We don’t want to have a traditional spiritual center where everyone gathers on Sunday mornings.

We have ideas about what we want do want to do. We want to do creative stuff, like raps and songs and blogs. We’re planning on starting a website where all this groovy stuff can happen.

But we don’t really know yet what it’s going to look like. We don’t really know yet how it’s all going to come together.

Yes, I know that the whole point of going to ministerial school is to dedicate our lives to the Divine. That’s all well and good.

But I still want to know what it’s going to look like.

I still want to sneak into my parent’s closet and find out what the presents are. I still want to turn to the last page and find out how it’s going to end.

The title of this post boasts that I have an iron-clad method for facing the Unknown. It’s what I call the Nike approach:

Just do it.  

Just be willing to move into uncharted territory. Just be willing to trust your hunches, even if they make no sense. Just be willing to try something new.

photo: Jenn Durfey on flickr

photo: Jenn Durfey on flickr

But there’s more.

­­­In this case, the more involves quantum physics. (If you weren’t scared of the Unknown already, now is the time to start trembling.)

For ages, metaphysicians have been saying that the Universe consists of both the seen and the unseen. There’s material reality, and there’s spiritual reality. Both are valid. Both are important.

Along comes quantum physics to back this up. Quantum physics says that there’s material reality, made up of particles, and there’s the quantum field, made up of waves.

Unlike material reality, which consists of particles we can see and taste and touch, the quantum field consists of waves of infinite possibilities.

Do you see how amazing this is?

Infinite. Possibilities.

photo: Ronald Repolona on flickr

photo: Ronald Repolona on flickr

Now, here’s something really cool.

In terms of the Known and the Unknown, material reality is the Known. And the quantum field is the Unknown.

And here’s something even cooler:

By embracing the Unknown, we’re opening a door to infinite possibilities. Infinite good. Infinite fun. Infinite love.

Yes, it could also be infinite blech, but the beautiful thing about possibilities is they’re just that. Possibilities. We get to make them into whatever we want.

I’ve been stressing out about not being able to turn to the last page of the ministry that Melissa and I are creating, but I can’t do that – because it hasn’t been created yet. It’s still a possibility. We’re still shaping it into what it’s going to be.

The secret to embracing the Unknown is remembering that there are way more possibilities in the Unknown than the Known. Indeed, possibilities are what the Unknown is made of.

You get to shape it. You get to choose from those infinite possibilities, forming them into a life that’s uniquely yours.

photo: Greg Westfall on flickr

photo: Greg Westfall on flickr

And you don’t have to do it alone. Waiting in all those possibilities are helpers of all shapes and stripes. Friends and books and teachers and the Divine itself.

Maybe that “drooling cave monster” is actually your greatest ally. Maybe those “killer bats” will allow the release of everything that no longer serves you. Maybe that “tiny cave” is an infinite palace of fun and pleasure.

Who knows? At this point, they’re still possibilities. And possibilities can be anything. Anything at all.

How totally groovy is that?

When you catch the power and potential of the Unknown, it’s hard to see it as anything but Infinitely Incredible.

Who knows, I might even stop peeking at the last page of the book.

Anything is possible.

photo: David Sim on flickr

photo: David Sim on flickr

How do you respond to the Unknown? Share your comments below!

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