Joy in Unknowing

If life is just light through dark tunnels, I could never be accused of being hopeless. Having less hope than some, well, maybe so – but I'm fine for believing that something better is coming. Some folks are awfully eager for you to give credit to their particular brand of hope. As if hoping isn't a basic human trait, shared through by all religions, cultures, and social structures through time. I don't buy their narrow attribution any more than I'd accept someone claiming to own the one right one to cook or make love. I get a little embarrassed at the thought of my younger self, trained to believe he should be passing on the indoctrination. There is a sweetness in darkness I was taught to avoid, a hysterical positivity in having the right answer, never letting a true story play out honest – for fear of missing the moral. I've found far more joy in unknowing, where proof does not provide the pleasure I once expected. I'm in love with life by my own method, but I don't need you to love it that way too.

 

November 10, 2024

Clementsport, Nova Scotia

 

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