Free falling into Answerlessness

By Adam J. Pearson

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In my experience, free falling into answerlessness, surrendering all the authorities and their doctrines to the vastness of not-knowing, feels like a delightful vulnerability, an exquisitely unknown openness, with no promises and no guarantees.

Nothing broken, nothing fixed. Just the fall.

This fall into nowhere, this fall into here, is at once a tumble into now, a stumbling into life that shakes the dust of ideologies, both spiritual and political, from the rawness of our eyes.

As the fossils of solidified views fall away, they release the infinite currents of meaning that can swirl into ways of seeing, interpreting, and perceiving from being locked into any one way.

Here, now, then, there, we find infinite ways to see and be, with nothing to fix them as this or that.

To my astonishment, in this vista of unknowing, I find everything wide open again, so open that not even the Gurus can close it up, for here, even they, are totally at a loss.

Here, we are all as empty, and as full, as newborn infants.

In this spacious place of actuality loosed into possibility, everything feels so open, that we can toss around ideas like a football between old friends.

So open that we can peer through interpretations and teachings like binoculars passed between children, without gluing our eyes to the lenses.

Like children, we can play pretend that things are just one way, for a while. And after our pretending, it’s time for another game.

Here, the aged sage and the newborn baby stand on equal footing, here, where there is nowhere for a single foot to rest.

Here, we can look up at the rim of our own grave… and smile.

How open it looks from here!

And oh, far up beyond its rim?

The sun shines through the trees.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Elle Nguyen says:

    Love it! We’re all on the same playing ground, we just happen to be older, or younger.

  2. Jerez says:

    Nice Adam.
    I like this.
    Well said.
    I’ll look a spell into your kaleidoscope, thanks for passing it to me, like a peace pipe…

    A continuance.
    Of dialogue, begun before we ever crossed paths as a you or as a me.

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