"How do I become more comfortable with and secure in the unknown?"

A few weeks ago on a cold but sunny day, I found myself meeting up with a friend in a National Trust car park in the Langdales for a short day hike. A year ago she wasn't my friend. I didn't even know she existed. I met her last year on a training course in London.

Speaking of that training course in London, two weeks before that started I didn't know it existed either, so it was certainly a surprise when I found myself inquiring and subsequently signing up.

I came down with a cold over the weekend and had to cancel a few appointments over the last fews days I knew I wasn't up to. 

Last night I put my Mooncup on to boil for twenty minutes in a pan of water. I missed the alarm and remembered only over an hour later. When I went into the kitchen the water was completely gone from the pan and my Mooncup was dry and cracked. I guess I'll need to buy a new one. 

Fifteen minutes ago I had no words for this post. Somehow they're rising up and coming out in what is hopefully some sort of coherent flow.

Back before Christmas I met a busker on a street corner in a neighbouring town. We became something of friends and he's sent me links to more good music in the last couple of months than I think I've ever come across in my life.

Speaking of music, I went over to visit my parents last week. Somehow I got interested in their record player and my mum put a Don McClean LP on and we sat and tapped our feet to American Pie. I was quite overwhelmed with the quality of the sound - it was really rather beautiful.

Fear of the unknown.

Do you ever find yourself afraid of the unknown? Or do you ask yourself how you can feel more comfortable with the unknown? I've known this fear and I'm sure I've asked this question. I think we all have. Let's talk about it.

Life is rising up in every moment in whatever way it rises up. Just happening and flowing and unfolding in every moment. 

If we say we're afraid of the unknown, that implies that there's a part of life that's known and a part that's unknown. The part that's known is ok to us and the part that's unknown causes fear.

But life isn't split, as far as I can tell in my own experience, into a part that's known and a part that's unknown. It's all in the unknown bucket. Except the end bit where we die. It feels safe to say that's coming to us all. I don't mean that to sound upsetting or harsh, more just a simple fact of our existence.

So if we accept that it's all unknown and just happening moment to moment, where does that leave us? 

It leaves us with this, now. It leaves us with the possibility of greeting each moment as it rises up in whatever form it takes, knowing that whether we think we're in control or not, life is just going to keep unfolding in whatever way it does. It leaves us with the opportunity to rest in this space of ever unfolding life, holding our hands up and laughing at the joy of knowing we know nothing.

And what about security? We all seem to want that. But can we say security exists, if we're really honest? Is there anything that is ultimately secure? What can you say in your life is secure? I'm looking at my life right now and I'm finding nothing. No real security in any of it.

And that seems to leave me again with this, now. Life as it's unfolding moment by moment. And the possibility of that ever changing flow being the only certainty there is. And strangely, there seems to be some security and joy and freedom in that. 

When everything is unknown, what else is there except to wake up each day and to be in the flow of it? 

Love and courage,

Leah