Knowing

(in response to Knowing Nothing, a poem by Jane Hirshfield)

A knowing look. Know it all. Mother’s voice. Knowing, the control room in my head desperately trying to figure out what is going on, to make sense of it, to anticipate, mitigate, dissipate blunt reality. Pushing every button, flicking every lever. Up, down. Which way is right. Now, I breathe. I leave that room. Descent the shaft to the basement. To a deeper, darker place of settle. A quiet undisturbed knowing. A musty, long forgotten darkness, dank with ripe odours. Unfamiliar yet home. At home in the slight chill, the unnerving still. Waiting for the voice, the light, for you to appear. To hear you. To be at one. To know. Yes that’s right. You, small child, frail yet knowing. Cowered by domination, yet here you roam free. Unseen, oft unheard, quiet in the night. These words. Where will they take me? Echoing around the chasm of my being. Chamber music – what is that? A symphony, sonorous, rising. Bubbling to the surface. Effervescence. A laugh. Joy. Sunshine breaks. A skip, a hop, a jump. Pole vaulting into the unknown. Free, weightless, grounded. Soaring over the highest hurdles. Soft landings. I hope. I am stuck now. Anxiety of the unknown. The time I high jumped and cleared the mat landing on my back on the compacted earth with a thud. Everything distant, beyond my reach. Even my breath. Wheezing. Now knowing. Was I/am I dying? No. “Winded”, apparently. Prying faces reassured. The word, knowledge. Not dying, just winded. “She’ll be alright”. Good to know! And now, I start to believe it. Knowing spreading deep within, rooting with breath, tentacles into the earth, a grip, a foothold. A place to stand. Firm, I rise. I stand. I am. I step forward. I go. I seek. One burning life. Take it. Embrace it fully. Breath fire into its very belly.

What do I know? I try to grow my knowledge daily, but I always feel like there's more, pages and pages of books I never read, theories I don't know about, historic facts that have escaped me. Is this the useful knowledge? Is this what sustains our hearts?

I know about feelings. Sometimes I feel too much. I know about pain. I know about disrespect. I know what it's like to feel forgotten. But I also know about love. I know myself. I know how to nourish my soul. I can read my needs and the needs of those close to me. This seems the knowledge that sustains life, that helps me progress to a place where I am useful. Not just feel useful, but actually DO good, plant seeds for what will become a strong and healthy forest. Knowing this, recongnising that I have something to offer is important. It's important to me. The voices that tell me I am worthless dissipate, because I have proof, here, now, that the knowledge I have accumulated is worth more than the university degree I don't have.

Knowing myself, knowing my family and friends...

There are things and people I will never know. Questions forever unanswered. My parents, I will never know them. I will only ever know what I have witnessed without explanations. But does anyone really know their parents?

Must work on that. Must pass on myself onto my children. Are they interested? Do they take me for granted?

More unanswered questions.

What do I really know?