Thanks for saying you don’t know. In my work life I’ve found that people will go to lengths to avoid saying they don’t know. But when I find some who will say so, I then know two important facts: I have reached a certain level of trust with them, and those people have confidence in themselves. That’s worth a lot. Thanks for trusting us
Back when I was in academia, I said "I don't know" in response to a student's question many times; and I immediately followed it with, "And I'll find out." I'd open the next class with an answer to those questions. My hope was that my honesty about not having all the answers would encourage them to see our class as an investigation and exploration for all involved, with me as a guide. Ideally, we're all learning every day, and "I don't know" opens up a lot of possibilities.
It absolutely does. AND without practice for most of us it is supremely uncomfortable. To learn to rest in that space of unknowing and resist the egoic tendency to flail about and reach for easy answers is the work of a lifetime. Certainly it is for me.
I had a great teacher in my youth. A surrogate father in many respects who used to tell me that the art of Quaker meeting was to take that split second after you pose a question before you come up with an answer inside your own head, when you are poised in that space of unknowing and worshipful, listening attention and make it stretch for a whole hour. He was still working on it, he said, after decades, and isn't that the truth?
I don't know, either. But we persist. Best to your children going through difficult times. These are difficult times, for children of all ages, including us. You're not alone, but the circumstances you are in sound exceptionally fraught. Give yourself some credit for facing all that, and writing through it with such honesty and clarity.
Picture this: You're on a journey of becoming really good at something, say, playing the guitar or mastering a new language. As you progress, you start to notice something intriguing happening. You begin to underestimate your skills. Why? Because the more you learn, the more you realize how much you don't know. It's like peeling an onion; there are always more layers underneath.
This realization, although a bit humbling, is actually a good thing. It keeps you grounded and hungry for improvement. You're more likely to take on challenges, practice diligently, and strive to get even better. You know there's always room for growth.
But here's the thing: You shouldn't sell yourself short. While it's great to be aware of your limitations, it's equally important to acknowledge your accomplishments. After all, your competence is what got you this far. It's what allows you to contribute your expertise to your field.
On the flip side, there are folks who don't quite get this balance. They might overestimate their skills, thinking they know it all when they don't. This can lead to problems, like being resistant to feedback or making rash decisions.
So, how do you strike the right balance? Here are a few tips I’ve come to trust:
Always be curious and willing to learn. That way, you'll keep that humility intact and the hunger for improvement alive.
Don't be shy about seeking feedback from people you trust. They can offer a fresh perspective on your skills and help you see where you might be underestimating or overestimating yourself.
Regularly reflect on your skills and knowledge. Are you too humble about what you know, or perhaps a tad overconfident? A little self-awareness goes a long way.
Finding that sweet spot between recognizing your competence and staying open to growth is a lifelong journey. It's about embracing both your strengths and your potential to keep evolving and making a real impact.
In the grand, glittering cabaret of "Stuff I Have No Clue About," the lineup's basically endless. But, as you know, darling, amidst the confetti of confusion, one sequined truth shines through: Just toss kindness and love into the mix, and you're golden!
Oh I can so relate! Even when I am prepping the day before my class weekends, I can honestly say, "I don't know how this will go". It feels like perpetual 'winging it', but with a lot more experience behind me than I realize. So, just like your writing, once I get going things seem to fall into place (mostly). And I assume it is just exactly as it's meant to be. Otherwise it'd be different. : ) In gardening, probably like most professions, there is just so damn much I don't or can't know that I use this phrase with students quite a lot. I love every one of these newsletters and the thought provoking content, even when you are creating off the cuff.
I loved the bell hooks quote, loved the poem, loved the post. The way you tease so much out of a simple sentence is so skillful. And thought provoking.
I think the phrase inhabits a kind of pivot position. At key moments, it can take us towards despair ("I know nothing"). Or it can take us towards growth "this is something I have to find the answer to"). I use it a lot and often find myself on the first road. I have to remind myself that the second road is a better one to travel.
it’s exhausting to be a know-it-all every second of each day. maybe that’s why naps were invented 🤷♀️
Thanks for saying you don’t know. In my work life I’ve found that people will go to lengths to avoid saying they don’t know. But when I find some who will say so, I then know two important facts: I have reached a certain level of trust with them, and those people have confidence in themselves. That’s worth a lot. Thanks for trusting us
Yes to all this.
Back when I was in academia, I said "I don't know" in response to a student's question many times; and I immediately followed it with, "And I'll find out." I'd open the next class with an answer to those questions. My hope was that my honesty about not having all the answers would encourage them to see our class as an investigation and exploration for all involved, with me as a guide. Ideally, we're all learning every day, and "I don't know" opens up a lot of possibilities.
It absolutely does. AND without practice for most of us it is supremely uncomfortable. To learn to rest in that space of unknowing and resist the egoic tendency to flail about and reach for easy answers is the work of a lifetime. Certainly it is for me.
I had a great teacher in my youth. A surrogate father in many respects who used to tell me that the art of Quaker meeting was to take that split second after you pose a question before you come up with an answer inside your own head, when you are poised in that space of unknowing and worshipful, listening attention and make it stretch for a whole hour. He was still working on it, he said, after decades, and isn't that the truth?
Yes. That sounds a lot like how one of my karate sensei described sitting practice. It was consistently difficult for me, yet so rewarding.
I don't know, either. But we persist. Best to your children going through difficult times. These are difficult times, for children of all ages, including us. You're not alone, but the circumstances you are in sound exceptionally fraught. Give yourself some credit for facing all that, and writing through it with such honesty and clarity.
So lovely.
Does this sound familiar?
Picture this: You're on a journey of becoming really good at something, say, playing the guitar or mastering a new language. As you progress, you start to notice something intriguing happening. You begin to underestimate your skills. Why? Because the more you learn, the more you realize how much you don't know. It's like peeling an onion; there are always more layers underneath.
This realization, although a bit humbling, is actually a good thing. It keeps you grounded and hungry for improvement. You're more likely to take on challenges, practice diligently, and strive to get even better. You know there's always room for growth.
But here's the thing: You shouldn't sell yourself short. While it's great to be aware of your limitations, it's equally important to acknowledge your accomplishments. After all, your competence is what got you this far. It's what allows you to contribute your expertise to your field.
On the flip side, there are folks who don't quite get this balance. They might overestimate their skills, thinking they know it all when they don't. This can lead to problems, like being resistant to feedback or making rash decisions.
So, how do you strike the right balance? Here are a few tips I’ve come to trust:
Always be curious and willing to learn. That way, you'll keep that humility intact and the hunger for improvement alive.
Don't be shy about seeking feedback from people you trust. They can offer a fresh perspective on your skills and help you see where you might be underestimating or overestimating yourself.
Regularly reflect on your skills and knowledge. Are you too humble about what you know, or perhaps a tad overconfident? A little self-awareness goes a long way.
Finding that sweet spot between recognizing your competence and staying open to growth is a lifelong journey. It's about embracing both your strengths and your potential to keep evolving and making a real impact.
In the grand, glittering cabaret of "Stuff I Have No Clue About," the lineup's basically endless. But, as you know, darling, amidst the confetti of confusion, one sequined truth shines through: Just toss kindness and love into the mix, and you're golden!
I so deeply don’t know…I don’t even know, sometimes, what I don’t know. It’s daunting.
I know I love you! ❤️
Oh I can so relate! Even when I am prepping the day before my class weekends, I can honestly say, "I don't know how this will go". It feels like perpetual 'winging it', but with a lot more experience behind me than I realize. So, just like your writing, once I get going things seem to fall into place (mostly). And I assume it is just exactly as it's meant to be. Otherwise it'd be different. : ) In gardening, probably like most professions, there is just so damn much I don't or can't know that I use this phrase with students quite a lot. I love every one of these newsletters and the thought provoking content, even when you are creating off the cuff.
What a great message, that quote is spot on about something E. Jean Carroll has been pointing out.
E Jean knows what's up. :)
No lies detected😁😍
A wise woman once told me that it's important to be very confident in your 'I don't know'.
I loved the bell hooks quote, loved the poem, loved the post. The way you tease so much out of a simple sentence is so skillful. And thought provoking.
I think the phrase inhabits a kind of pivot position. At key moments, it can take us towards despair ("I know nothing"). Or it can take us towards growth "this is something I have to find the answer to"). I use it a lot and often find myself on the first road. I have to remind myself that the second road is a better one to travel.