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<\/a><\/p>\nLove is the best thing that I have known in my life, it has also been the most painful thing that I have known. I think that the most painful part of love for me has been in the \u2018not knowing\u2019; that is, to not really know whether or not the love of another for me is true.<\/p>\n
At my birth, I was in a state of \u2018Not Knowing\u2019 it seems. I was not aware or cognisant of what was transpiring in the moment or day-to-day; the ability to process information had not yet developed within me. Often, I have inquired with my parents about my birth and the first few years of my life. They were there, they are trustworthy (as far as I can tell), they know the story and they are still alive to share of it with me. I wonder if Jesus was ever curious about His birth-story?<\/p>\n
I know that my dad wasn\u2019t there for mine (that\u2019s confirmed). I know that the doctor was in a dogsled race somewhere and arrived on-scene directly at-delivery and, that following my birth, we flew home in a plane steered by a drunk pilot (I have not had the chance to speak with the doctor and the pilot so, I\u2019m taking my mom\u2019s word on these accounts).<\/p>\n
Knowing without being present requires some trust, as with history, in its entirety, I \u2018suppose\u2019. I mean, I love all the stories of history and how they can apply and relate to life today (we all could go on and on, citing all kinds of great stories). As I continue to learn, what seems to be a part of the story is the revelation of untrue or ‘cover-up’ stories (which include the intentionally ‘only partial’ stories) of history; the truth of a lie can be quite disturbing and uncomfortable to bear to begin with. One story that my dad has come clean on is that of a Shaman, from the Inuit village we lived in, who he said named me (Qovianqtuliaq, which in English is translated as ‘coming’). I still love to share this story like it\u2019s true, though.<\/p>\n
I know that my mom had tough time in the first years of my life from the stories that she has shared, ones laced with some traumatic inner struggle and sadness. Her experience of Post-Partum Depression and Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) led to my being oft-cared-for by an Inuit lady named Lissie who, as the story goes \u2018loved me so much\u2019 she couldn\u2019t help herself but to bite my cheeks. For the Inuit family and culture, this was a sign of deep affection. Could this have been my first memory of love, the surprising pain of it? Awesome and, perplexing.<\/p>\n
I have not always been curious about things I don\u2019t know. Unfortunately, mostly for the fear of finding things out that that could unravel my comfort, I have chosen what has seemed safe to me. Renner and D\u2019Souza have offered a book that \u2018proposes a more fruitful relationship with not knowing\u20191<\/sup>. There is an opportunity in this book to learn about \u2018letting go\u2019 of the tension, being relieved of the competitive struggle and scramble to be \u2018the one\u2019 who knows. The authors refer to their inspiration of discomfort \u2018in the unknown\u2019 as reason for engaging with the subject; they engender hope in the reader that \u2018at the edge of the known and the unknown there is a fertile place2<\/sup>.<\/p>\n Knowledge can inform wisdom<\/strong><\/p>\n In his most recent encyclical, Fratelli Tutti<\/em>, Pope Francis presents to the world loving perspective on many subjects that, for the opportunity of deception and illusion they provide for politics and greed, have left many stumbling in confusion. He writes, \u2018True wisdom demands an encounter with reality. Today, however, everything can be created, disguised and altered. A direct encounter even with the fringes of reality can thus prove intolerable.\u20193 ‘<\/sup>Knowing’ from the encounter with reality that God offers on the margins and just beyond our boundary lands, I wonder if out there just beyond the intolerable fringes is where \u2018it\u2019 might be. We talk about \u2018it\u2019 (contemplate and meditate on \u2018it\u2019) from inside the circle. The Life we hear and read about, the one that ‘il Papa’ points to as well, could it be out there beyond those uncomfortable places and wastelands of broken hearts?<\/p>\n