Maybe you're not meant to know.

Let go of the death grip on certainty, and allow a bit more space for mystery.

I had the immense pleasure of spending the last month traveling along the west coast of Ireland, aptly called the Wild Atlantic Way. We spent most of our time exploring small towns on the edge of rocky cliffs and white sandy shores. Thirty days is a long time to be away, and it felt even longer because each day brought new experiences of rugged landscapes and entertaining people across the pond. We took in so much that it will take a while to unpack it all. I won’t yet bore you with all 1,370 pictures from my trip (that’s over 45 per day!!). But there were some comments and experiences that really resonated with me, and I’ll share those with you in the next several posts.

The first one is the comment by hotelier, Gary Curran who runs the fabulous Greenmount House in Dingle Bay: “You’re not meant to know.”

 
 

View of Dingle Bay from Eask Tower

Gary and I were talking about my difficulty understanding Irish. Through much of the west coast, Irish is still spoken after being banned for centuries. In some of these places, called Gaeltacht regions, Irish is the predominant language, and there is a strong movement to rekindle the language as an essential element of Irish culture. My interest stems from my connection with the Céile Dé spiritual tradition. The prayers and chants from that tradition are in Old Irish and Scots Gaelic. 

Irish is quite different from the romance languages you may have learned in high school. There are very few cognates and so many of the letters are silent (even more than in French!) or they are pronounced like a completely different letter! The spellings are many and varied and there are dialects particular to each of the counties. In addition to all that, many words have three or more meanings! 

And Gary’s response to all of this was “you’re not meant to know!”

Say what now?

Most of my life has been spent searching for the “right” answers and learning all the things in order to excel in my field. My identity has been tied to being right. My sense of worth has been tied to being right. Who would I be if I didn’t have all the correct answers??? Naturally, Garry’s comment felt like I had run into a brick wall. Or maybe a stone wall. We saw loads of those:

 
Bluebells blooming in front of a stone wall
 

Bluebells growing in front of a stone wall, Ardara, County Donegal

Maybe I’m actually not meant to know. 

Maybe if I let go of my death grip on certainty, I could allow a bit more space for mystery. 

Maybe if I stopped searching for certainty, mystery could embrace me.

Sometimes, we are working so hard, that we forget the only thing required is to be the face of love in the present moment.


My watch band broke while I was traveling. Until I returned home to my stash of replacement bands, I had to sit with the discomfort of not knowing what time it was. I didn’t know if it was time to eat, time to sleep, or time to be somewhere else. Sure, I could pull out my phone and check the time. There are clocks in any number of places that tell me the time. But, still, it was such an irritation! 

Because my watch is a step tracking device, I could not know how many steps I was accumulating as I walked through green fields and climbed up rocky cliffs. I was angsting about getting “credit” for all the movement! I felt like I was being cheated. It was such an irritation!

Or was this an invitation?

Maybe this was was a sign that I was not meant to know what time it was.

Maybe this was an invitation to be more present to the moment in front of me. To pay more attention to the signals my body was sending me than to the numbers on my watch. Could I learn to listen to my stomach - growling or comfortable - and then conduct myself accordingly? 

Could I let go of my obsession with time, and choose to stay focused on the task at hand. Would I get more done? Is that even the right question anymore? Focusing on a single task is much more pleasant than being prodded by the ticking clock. Going deeper into an activity is preferable to staying on the surface, distracted by the next thing on my calendar.

Tucked inside this little irritation is also an invitation to more spontaneity!

Being able to pivot is a critical tool to pack in your suitcase. You cannot know how everything will turn out. You cannot plan for every eventuality. The more you try to, the more you will miss. Wrong turns often lead you down unexpected lanes where you can find what you didn’t even know you were looking for! 

Traveling for a month may not be practical for you in this season of your life, but perhaps it is possible to find little ways to be more spontaneous by changing up your routine, or carving out a few minutes of unscheduled time. Give yourself the chance to slow down and enjoy a free block of time on your calendar. Take your watch off and bask in the unknowing.

Let a little bit of mystery embrace you! 

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Taking Up Space and Showing Up

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Suspending Belief