A few days ago, I talked with a friend from Oregon. She asked me if I have plans for the coming weeks or months, and I said I don’t really know. For now, I’ll stay here and then I’ll see. At some point, I’ll need to go back to our land in the Andes to take care of things there, ideally before February next year due to the visa.
I don’t really know where I’ll be in the longer term. There are no obvious options right now. The land in the Andes seems complicated, especially considering climate change. The Zen center in The Netherlands or Spain is an option, although I am not sure if I am cut out for that life anymore. (I used to love it.) Amritapuri would be amazing, but it was very hard on my body and health when I was there. (That may, of course, be different next time. Or not!)
She seemed uneasy about my not knowing, and started giving me options and pushing for them. That brought up some overwhelm in me, and it created a somewhat weird and uncomfortable dynamic.
I am familiar with not knowing. It’s not time to know yet. And at some point, something will present itself and the way forward – at least for the next weeks or months – will be clear. Before then, it’s not time to know yet.
In this situation, pushing won’t help. I can explore options, and that’s often quite helpful. I can gather information and imagine myself in different scenarios and see how it feels. But to push for knowing doesn’t work. That’s just uncomfortable, confusing, and overwhelming.
To use the metaphor from my recent dream: Pushing for clarity is like going to war in Russia. Waiting for clarity, while gathering information and imagining myself in the different scenarios, is like designing bikes locally. I much prefer the second option.