Living Unconditionally

When I heard Scots poet Jackie Kay, a couple of years ago, talk about writer Zora Neale Hurst, and how she did not mind when towards the end of her life she did not receive recognition ( if not now, than maybe later people would ‘get her’) – my heart leapt and I almost heard the words ‘living unconditionally’. And that is what I would like to be remembered for – when…

No role model, no certainty apart from the one inside: When I was young, it left me helpless, furious at times and inclined to lose myself in comforts and offers of  some sort of security or explanation… But when it came to the crunch, I always came back to the inner knowing of not knowing, with no more no less than an abstract image engrained somewhere inside of what to pursue, how to proceed, how to be.

It goes with: There is a transformative depth to moving into the unknown, that is where meaning comes from. That IS meaning. THERE is meaning.

For many years, when I felt really melancholic, I turned to Maxim Gorki’s autobiographical writing. It seemed knowing to me.

sleeping in the bakery basement

damp and dark –

knowing not what

Slowly, gradually, with many bumps and some leaps and bounds, I have come to call this certain uncertainty – faith. Anonymous faith. And begun to make my peace with it. As far as I am concerned, it can best be expressed through paradox – and least so by reciting religious stories unthinkingly.

Have a look inside… Perhaps you find a question you didn’t know you had – or a Moment of shared travel?


%d bloggers like this: