Knowing much less

Most of the time we know too much. We think we're awake because we seem so knowledgeable about what we see and what can happen as a result of what we're observing. Incredible as it may seem, when we know too much, we're asleep. We're under the witch's spell in all those fairy tales where the one princess and/or all the peasantry winks out in the middle of the story. We don't know we're asleep and won't know that until we awaken,

When we're awake, we're aware of the perils of knowing too much. We know the amazing value, impact and repercussions of not knowing. We drop our consensual conditioning, familiar categories and habitual conclusions. We restore our innocence, wonder and fascination in lieu of being too knowledgable. We're full of questions and empty of answers to queries like the following:

1. What is this I'm seeing with my own eyes?
2. What does this evidence indicate or reveal to me?
3. What will come of this if I do nothing about it?
4. What can I do to change it, encourage it or oppose it?
5. What will become better if I accept it, allow it and resist it not?
6. What will benefit from reversing it or coming at it the other way around?
7. What calls for stopping it, dropping it or losing it willingly?
8. What I'm I blind to, overlooking or disregarding?
9. What is missing in this to complete it or restore its balance?
10. What pattern is this fitting that gives me a correct reading of it?
11. What is done to an extreme or gone way overboard?
12. What processes are there to trust in this as they take effect?

Answers to questions like these to our minds when they are empty of preconceptions. We simply provide the blank page to be written upon. We know enough to ask the questions without insisting on coming up with our own answers. We're awake to the spaciousness of what we're facing, the mysteriousness of what it could mean, our fascination with it's uniqueness and our anticipation of being given answers to our questions.