I used to believe in past and future lives, that I chose my parents, that astrology was a map that could explain my life.
Although I no longer believe these things, I don’t disbelieve them, either. The mystery is way too wild and vast to be understood, to think that I know anything. What I’ve lost is belief in meaning.
This has made life much simpler, because volumes of energy are not bound up in assigning significance that really is not there. I also feel more vulnerable–like I’m in free fall–because I won’t tie the events of life up into any kind of neat, understandable package. Frankly, this drives some of my friends nuts. They want to create meaning for me! Sometimes it’s easier to let them, because then they are more comfortable. Other times I lovingly point out that we simply don’t know.
We are eternally on the cutting, untraversed edge. The circumstances of this moment are wholly new and fresh. More and more, I’m comfortable not knowing. And when fear comes up–which it does, although less regularly–I sit with those sensations of awe. No one has been here before.
© Skye Blaine, 2011
Image credit and Copyright: Benjamim Ribeiro
the heart of the matter 
I love not believing in meaning – it simplifies everything and generates a calm presence. My mind misses it sometimes, probably because it was really good at finding the meaning of this and that – starting from early childhood, when i believed it made me ‘safer’ or more prepared. I didn’t know then that there is always complete safety and that presence doesn’t require preparation. Love reading your posts – thanks Dear One.
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