IDK=PIA

“I-don’t-know.”  Three words that register on the fear-o-meter in some people’s psyche as high as “I love you.”  Whether it’s said or heard, the implications of both run the gamut of our emotions.  For me, at least in some moments, “I love you” is briefly comforting, even when it’s a lie.  “I don’t know,” however, hits different.  I never like to hear it.  From anyone, least of all myself. 

The idea of I don’t know creates an itch on the inside of my head that I can only imagine feels similar to what an apple might experience as the worm inside makes its way through the apple’s flesh, but never come out… it just turns in inward in different directions, crawling and chewing until it’s eventually eating its own waste.  Perhaps, externally, the apple looks just fine; but, inside, it’s mush.  The feeling, idea, experience, of “I don’t know” makes me feel like mush. I really, really, wanna say that I hate it.

I HATE IT!  There, I said it.  I HATE IT!  I HATE IT!  I HATE IT!  I HATE IT! Imagine now me leading a full beautiful black choir signaling tenors, altos, and sopranos to sing it in harmony in rounds. Imagine me in the role of Anakin Skywalker standing at the precipice of my relationship with “I don’t know” with Chancellor Palpatine’s villainous hiss in my ear encouraging me, urging me, “Yess…. hate it! This hate will make you strong.  This hate will give form to your inner mush.”

So I lean into it. Feel the hatred, the anger it evokes.  The subsequent rage that power experiences when it realizes it’s own futility… awareness that it has no meaning; power is powerless in the landscape of the unknown. The pain of that recognition cracks the mask of anger and fear is revealed. The hand up the puppet’s ass.  Fear is a pain in the ass.  Not knowing is a pain in the ass.  And if transference is a thing, then it stands to reason that when I’m in the midst of the unknown or fear, that I am a pain in the ass.