The Door to the Unknown

Be the One Who Walks Through

Sometimes I grow tired of doing the work to find the answers to the things I don’t know.

But the alternative is to remain unknown to myself — to live an unconscious life, at the mercy of what I don’t know, and at the mercy of what other people don’t want to know.

The unknown is the way.

To assume or insist something can’t be known — that there is no door, or that the door is locked — is a cop out. To look the other way and pretend is to choose helplessness.

People who choose to ignore their fears attempt to erase them. They merely keep the door closed on them.

There are benefits to ignorance. You make friends with others who want to ignore the doors. You join a cult of people-pleasers and willful innocents. You belong to a force that will protect you, call you a “good guy,” and praise you for helping it hide reality.

When you believe there’s a monster behind the door, you let the false imagination win. The monsters are out in the open, pretending the way to knowledge and possibility is locked, pretending they protect you as they protect themselves.

You are the one who looks. The one who dares to be the “stupid” person in every horror film, who opens the door and walks down into the darkness.

To admit naivete takes courage. To overcome it takes even more.

You see the door, you open it and walk through it, and perhaps even shut it behind you so you can’t return to the naive world.

Once you’ve looked into the darkness and uncovered the truth, you experience the real gift. The imagination relaxes and begins to play with more creative ideas.

When it sees the truth, it no longer has to waste time imagining things that don’t exist. It can then use its creative energy to bring new things into the world.

Be the one who wants to know what’s behind the door, the one who imagines new possibilities, brings them up, and brings them into conversation and into existence — who speaks them, creates them, and opens space in life to them.

Be the one who sees opportunity, walks into the unknown, and makes it known.

Originally published as day eighteen of “Something Imperfect,” a personal 30-day challenge to hit publish every day.

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