Since the day I left Atlanta, I have not known what was going to happen next. At first, this was exhilarating, liberating, a feeling of excitement like I have never known. Now I have reached a point where I truly have no more plans. I have run out of plans. Even for the next hour, I don’t know what I will do. I am learning what Deepak Chopra calls “the wisdom of uncertainty.” According to Chopra, I am now in “the field of all possibilities.”
This notion is upheld by some of my favorite writers. Emily Dickinson wrote a poem called “I dwell in possibility”:
I dwell in Possibility–
A fairer House than Prose–
More numerous of Windows–
Of Chambers as the Cedars–
Impregnable of Eye–
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky–
Of Visitors–the fairest–
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise–
Helen Keller said, in a quote that over the years, and especially now, has become my mantra:
“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.” –Helen Keller, “Let Us Have Faith” (1940)
Eckart Tolle has this to say in A New Earth:
“When you become comfortable with uncertainty, infinite possibilities open up in your life. It means fear is no longer a dominant factor in your life…”
He goes on to remind us: “The Roman philosopher Tacitus rightly observed that ‘the desire for safety stands against every great and noble enterprise.’”
And so, here I stand in the field of possibilities, seeking the wisdom of uncertainty. I have no idea why I am here in California, what I will do, or what will happen to me. I could die tomorrow, I could live a long and fulfilling life alone, I could get married and raise dozens of foster children. I could live on a farm. I suppose anything could happen and I have NO IDEA what that might be…I have no more plans of my own.
It is a strangely freeing and exciting place to be. Trusting that the intelligence of the universe (some call it god) has a design for me. Trusting that I will be all right — having a little faith.
Which reminds me of another line, the first thought I had this morning as I awakened to a new world of all possibilities. These lines are from the movie, Shakespeare in Love, oft repeated as one of the central themes of the film whenever Will Shakespeare finds himself in another predicament. I have always loved them:
Philip: It will be all right.
Philip: I don’t know; it’s a mystery.
And that is the definition of faith.